


The Big Blog Adventures of Phichit Chulanont

by SkyaraSnow, topcatnikki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Authors Regret Nothing, Blow Jobs, Body Shots, Chrischit as a sidepairing, Communication, Crack, Cuddling & Snuggling, DiscordNerds, Doki Doki, Drinking, Fluff, Hand Jobs, House Party, Idiots in Love, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Naked Yoga, Porn, Self-Esteem Issues, VictUuri, gigglesmut, non-canon, trashfic but awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-11-09 23:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyaraSnow/pseuds/SkyaraSnow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/topcatnikki/pseuds/topcatnikki
Summary: The guy is tall, broad shouldered and pale. He's angular in a way that is all cheekbone and jaw, with a sweep of white blonde hair that falls into his stunning eyes. Blue, green, pupils so dark he could fall into them.And now he's starting to sound like a bad YA romance novel. Great.§Yuuri Katsuki is a twenty-four year old sass bucket who bit off more than he could chew in his choice housemate. Luckily he can turn to his favorite tumblr agony uncle for help!Phichit Chulanont may just have a deep dark secret, one which no one can ever know...





	1. The most beautiful man I’ve ever hated

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just a giggle fic for two nerds with too much time on their hands, but we hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Special thanks to Sophiedoodles for her careful beta eye and never reigning us nerds in!!

 

_Adulting is hard._

 

It's a thought that stalked Yuuri through meetings with mortgage brokers and  realtors, his company as he pours over listing's on websites for hours and his finances as he looks into the muddied world of repayment plans. He's buying a house at twenty four. Ambitious, yes, but he's done the math a hundred times and quadruple checked his work contract for termination clauses (just incase, he didn’t want to be stranded with a mortgage and no way to pay it!). And now here he is, having signed away twenty five years of his life to bricks and mortar, showing a potential lodger around his house.

 

It wasn't much, three beds, two baths, a kitchen that is five years out of style and a porch that creaks when the wind is high. He loves it, all the dark wood flooring and the way the light streams in through the sash windows. The man he's showing around seems less keen, he's making a fuss about the room allocation and listing off reams of bad habits he's had in former housemates. Yuuri isn't bothered though, he stopped listening the moment the man had complained about the lack of carpeting. He had a few other people lined up to view, having posted a Craigslist ad and vetting the responders thoroughly (and more invasive than they could possibly have imagined).

 

The guy is still complaining.

 

 _Adulting_ is _hard._

 

Yuuri makes a vague excuse before leading the man out, he's protesting but Yuuri has more of this to come and possibly worse so he simply thanks the man for his interest and closes the door in its wake.

 

The next potential housemates are a couple who are all hands and giggle behind him for the duration of the viewing. He's riled up and snappy with the next viewer, a middle aged woman who was asking about homing her cats. By the time the final viewer raps on the door sharply Yuuri is all but ready to just tell them to stick it up their ass. He doesn't though, he politely opens the door and is pulling another perfunctory smile to his lips when he catches sight of the most beautiful man he's ever seen.

 

Okay. Wow.

 

The guy is tall, broad shouldered and pale. He's angular in a way that is all cheekbone and and jaw, with a sweep of white blonde hair that falls into his stunning eyes. Blue, green, pupils so dark he could fall into them.

 

And now he's starting to sound like a bad YA romance novel. Great.

 

“Hello Yuuri! I'm Victor Nikiforov, we spoke on the phone.” The man aims a wide smile at Yuuri, whose response is a rapid trio of blinks before he remembers himself and sticks out a hand.

 

“Nice to meet you.” Brilliant start. Excellent greeting and a solid handshake. “Come on in.” He's proud he managed to form two whole sentences rather than just screeching in shock.

 

Victor is padding along beside him as he shows the man the lower floor, he opens cupboards and peers into every nook and cranny excitedly, he compliments the flooring and he gushes over the light fixtures and how roomy the family room is. Yuuri does his best to keep up with the narrative but is mostly distracted by Victor's ass as it climbs the stair ahead of him, the excellently tailored jeans accenting it perfectly. The man is flowing over with exuberance in a way that reminds him a little of Phichit… They view the second floor in much the same way, Victor exclaiming at the decor and how his bed would be just perfect under those windows right there.

 

He manages to get through the viewing with minimal damage to his psyche. Victor asks about the rent and nods along happily with the rate, he asks about sharing communal areas and Yuuri bumbles out some form of placation about kitchen cupboards and the furniture that’s currently being shipped from what was formerly his apartment. The man is so disarmingly handsome that Yuuri is thinking more with his dick than his rationality when he offers Viktor the room.

 

Yep. That quick.

 

The other man readily agrees, bouncing happily on the balls of his feet as he clasps Yuuri’s hands in an exuberant shake.

 

“Oh, I forgot to ask. How do you feel about dogs?” Victor shoots the question at him as they reach the front door.

 

“You have a dog?” Now that's something he could have mentioned earlier. Not that Yuuri didn’t love dogs, he has his Vicchan back in Hausetsu after all, but it wasn’t like he could retract the invitation to houseshare immediately after offering.

 

“Yes, my Makkachin, she’s beautiful! Would you like to see a picture?” He’s gushing again, already pulling his phone free of those sinful jeans. Yuuri only makes an abortive gesture, resigning himself to meeting the dog soon enough anyway.

 

“I love dogs, she’ll be very welcome here.” He means it, really he does, but there’s still a niggle of annoyance. “I’m going to be moving in over the weekend, so you can feel free to start bringing your stuff up as soon as you get the contract back to me.”

 

“Oh, sure. That sounds fine.” Victor offers his hand again, “I’m sure we’re going to have lots of fun together!” He grins wickedly, running his eyes over Yuuri’s face in an assessing sweep that runs just the wrong side of playful.

 

Yuuri can only nod mutely in response as Victor heads through the door with a jaunty ‘See you next week roomie!’ and jumps into the passenger side of a car he hadn’t noticed earlier. The driver jumps at the intrusion, having been engrossed in his phone and they exchange a few words before the engine starts up. Victor waves happily to him as they pull out, the driver gives him a nod, face hidden behind sunglasses that seem incredibly unnecessary on an overcast friday afternoon in February.

 

Yuuri doesn’t give himself the time to overthink the decision he’d just hastily made, he has far too much to do before Leo and Guang Hong arrive to start hauling in boxes and flat packs. He simply rubs at his eyes under their glasses and huffs out a confused laugh. Hoping that even if Victor is a little overwhelming, he’ll acclimatise to the company sooner rather than later.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri doesn’t get used to it.

 

He’s still stressing out trying to unpack his entire life from trash bags and salvaged boxes when Victor arrives at seven in the evening with a moody teenager in tow and a car spilling at the seams with cases and boxes.

 

Victor is still in his bubbly happy mood as he whirlwinds into the house dragging designer suitcases which he handles carelessly and letting his dog glumph happily under his feet.

 

Victor is still bubbly and happy the next morning, even though he’d been up all night with a swearing teenager who had no idea how to regulate the volume of his voice. Yuuri only slinks past them on his way to work, earning a scowl from the blonde teen and a chirpy, ‘Have a nice day Yuuri!’.

 

Victor is _still_ a bouncing ball of enthusiasm when Yuuri gets home from a long day at work, sleep deprived from the noise the night before and only wishing for his bed. He calls happily from the couch, cuddled up with Makkachin and scrolling through his phone, “Evening Yuuri! Did you have a good day at work? Yuri just left, so we have the place to ourselves for our first night as real housemates! Shall I order some food?”

 

“Uh.”

 

“What would you like? Pizza, Chinese? Maybe I could make something, I bet you’re exhausted after work! What do you do anyway, I never asked before!”

 

“I-”

 

“Chris gives me hell for it, says I’m ditzy and fluff-brained. I don’t think I’m so bad though, I mean I could be like Yuri- not you Yuuri- other Yuri. That could get confusing huh? We should come up with a nickname or something-”

 

“Victor!” Yuuri hadn’t meant to snap, but the man just kept going. “Sorry- I was um, just going to get a shower.”

 

“Oh, okay!” Victor blinked at him from the couch, “I could order the food while you do that?”

 

“Sure, yeah. Pizza sounds great. Just nothing with pineapple.”

 

“No pineapple?”

 

“No pineapple.” He agrees firmly, shooting to the staircase before Victor can bombard him anymore.

 

His shower relieves a little of the tension, he rolls his shoulders under the water and relaxes as he washes away the days stress. Its nice. And he’s sure Victor just needs a little time to acclimatise to him too, perhaps they can talk about it over dinner. He hadn’t been horrific or pushy, he was just chatty in a way that would naturally wind any introvert up. Yuuri would just have to set some ground rules over pizza and then everything would be fine. He towels off hurriedly, throwing a pair of ratty sweats and a baggy t shirt on as he heads back down to Victor and Makkachin.

 

He settles onto the free couch with the best intention to make perfectly amicable small talk until Victor is distracted enough with food to let him talk out the ground rules. Victor tells him all about his cousin Yuri, the small angry ball of teenager who’d been cursing through the night, and how he and his best friend Otabek were studying together at a local college. Yuuri let it wash over him, barely paying attention as the exhaustion hits him twofold now he’s comfortable, he pays even less attention when Makkachin makes her way over, currying favour with licks and begging for tummy rubs. It was fine, really. Victor shoots off the couch to get the pizza when the door goes.

 

Yuuri is already asleep by the time he gets back.

 

When Yuuri wakes hours later, his face is plastered to the armrest, Makkachin’s weight numbing his legs below the knees, and he’s starving. He manages to pull himself from under the giant poodle without disturbing her and gives himself a moment to regain blood flow before he forages for cold pizza in the kitchen.

 

It hadn’t been too bad, letting Victor chat away at him. Yes there had been the initial wobble when he’d first come home, but it had been smoothed out by the time he’d returned from the shower. They could have a proper talk tomorrow, perhaps over breakfast if Victor was up. The decision to take Victor on as a housemate had been a snap one, but hopefully they could make things work, they were both grown men after all.

 

Legs finally working and stomach complaining loudly, Yuuri hobbled to the kitchen, finding the pizza box deserted on the island, Victor hadn’t even stowed the slices in the fridge. Yuuri frowned at that, lifting the nearest slice and taking a bit, wondering if he’d have to teach Victor about food safety as well as manners. The first bite was heaven, cold pizza was something of an acquired taste, yes, but Yuuri was hungry enough not to mind.

 

The second bite was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. He gagged around the acidic taste, hurrying to the bin to spit the mouthful of hate. After chugging a glass of water to clear his mouth he flipped the lights on and glared at the pizza box.

 

_It was covered in pineapple._

 

Yuuri was going to throttle the beautiful asshole.

 

* * *

 

The next day Victor leaves the orange juice on the counter after breakfast and Yuuri returns home to find it soured and undrinkable. When he knocks on Victors door to politely ask him not to leave the juice out, Victor answers butt naked and unconcerned that Yuuri had given him an unconscious once over before stammering an apology and running in the opposite direction.

 

On Thursday Yuuri enters the bathroom to find Victors discarded clothes beside the laundry basket.

 

 _Beside the laundry basket_.

 

He doesn’t dare knock on Victors door again to reprimand him for fear of what might await him if he did.

 

Victor spends Friday night out of the house, trilling about a late night with a buddy on his way out of the door. Yuuri holes up on the couch with Makkachin and begs Phichits company for a night of bitching and movies. Being the best best friend in the world Phichit turns up with Ben and Jerry’s and Sliding Doors. They bitch their way through the ice cream and huddle together with blankets for the movie, and if Yuuri gets a little teary at the ending Phichit doesn’t mention it.

 

Saturday Victor is hungover, which means he spends two hours in the bath, refilling it whenever it cools too much and humming the same song on a loop, something he must have picked up in whatever club he’d ended up in last night. Yuuri texts Phichit a stream of begging emojis and hopes his friend will rescue him again. He doesn’t, he’s on a date. Leo is busy with his family and Guang Hong doesn’t reply.

 

By Monday morning Yuuri is so used to being annoyed that he stomps into the office. Leo, Phichit and Guang Hong share a look over their monitors but don’t mention his dark mood. By lunch he’s lightened up a bit, Phichit regaling them with the terrible date he’d had and Guang Hong telling him he was super sorry about the lack of reply had taken the edge off. Feeling a little more charitable he allows the guys to talk him into hosting a housewarming, it doesn’t take much, he’s been so stressed the last week he could do with blowing off some steam and hanging with people he actually likes rather than annoyingly handsome git’s with perfect hair.

 

He fires off a text to Victor telling him that he can invite a few friends if he likes and that’s that. He buries himself happily in his work, mood lifted momentarily. Until he catches himself humming the stupid song Victor had drummed into his skull all weekend and curses himself once more.

 

Yuuri needs help, needs an outside perspective on this without any inch of friendship biases, luckily he knows exactly where to go. He pulls up the tumblr app, navigating to the search bar and types in the username of his favorite trashy blog for voyeuristic cringe: _Ask-Uncle-Art._

 

Across the room there’s barely a whisper of sound as Phichits phone lights up.


	2. Meet lil Viktor :)

 

Phichit Chulanont wouldn’t call himself a creature of habit, not really- he just had a few routines which had been in place so long that they became the norm.

He arrived at work at 8:45 sharp, ready for another day’s photo editing and wrangling with clients perceptions of a credible workload and timescale balance, bitching to Yuuri about said clients, then burying himself in whatever spotify recommended for the day while he ground out polished pieces of adequacy for advertising firms and websites alike. Working until Yuuri threw food under his nose or vice-versa, and then only stopping long enough to refuel and grab more coffee before settling back into his work. By 5:30 he’d have a crick in his neck and cramp in his fingers, fumbling the straps of his messenger bag as he took his leave with a cheerful wave. It was predictable, frustrating, fun, and boring. It was his job.

He loved his work, he was dedicated and passionate about ensuring the client got exactly what they were looking for, he had fun working with Yuuri, Leo, and Guang Hong, yet the demanding nature of the work meant he needed an outlet, a way to decompress after a long day stuck at his desk and glued to a laptop screen.

So naturally he went home and curled onto the couch with blankets and his laptop, his tumblr blog open and a mug of tea in his grasp (potentially a beer if his askbox demanded it).

His early days on tumblr had been a stream of consciousness being poured into the void, struggling to get through the last days of his college career with Yuuri taking up half of his space with crippling anxiety and his terrible habit of falling asleep with his laptop precariously dangling off his mattress, it had been a way to just blow off a little steam. He posted pictures of his hamsters, complained about dates that went wrong, reblogged every damn meme he wanted, complained more about bad dates and why ordering the hottest thing on the menu and trying to suck a guys dick was a bad move.

He garnered something of a following, his personal posts generating notes like wildfire and breeding requests for more content, more asks flowing into his inbox. There were a lot of people out there in the void who didn’t have a person to open up to, who wanted to talk anonymously, who needed a shoulder to cry on. Weirdly the dating advice had been the source of his main occupation on the site as his blog grew.

He stopped posting memes, opened a sideblog for his shit posting needs and changed his username to Ask-Uncle-Art, and set about informing the world of his opinions on all things romance. He made it clear from the get go that he was in no way a professional, that he couldn’t work magic, and that his opinions were his own, and with that byline he found the perfect way to relieve a little stress after a long day of face-planting his desk when clients wanted a hundred minute changes which added up to a whole new project.

The hum of the laptop fans was comforting as he huddled under the thickest blanket he owned, combatting the last vestiges of winter in Detroit. The grim weather combined with a heavy workload had him in need of some serious distractions. And, luckily for him, he had one.

With a mug of fresh tea in hand, he opened his asks. A quick glance showed that most of it was pretty standard, a few cheating partners, and a few who just needed to know how to break bad news to their partners. ‘JUST TELL THEM!!! COMMUNICATE!!!!’ Phichit wanted to scream at them, but even if this wasn’t Phichits day job, he was still a professional and never gave anything less than a professional, albeit snarky, response. The snark was something of a habit these days, but after he’d spent hours compiling masterlists sending the same, “Check out my FAQ” reply twenty times a day was grating.

He scrolled the awaiting asks in the hopes that there would be a couple of juicy pieces that might set off some discourse with his followers, but it seemed most of these were unpublishable drivel that would get an immediate diversion to his FAQ. He took a sip of scalding tea, hoping to put off the moment when it happened. He scrolled past the are they cheating/losing interest/hiding something posts and then one in particular caught his eye.

 

 

> _Dear Ask-Uncle-Art,_
> 
>   
>  _I don’t normally do this but I have a small problem on my hands, and I need advice on how to handle it._
> 
> _Recently, I purchased a house and put out an ad for a roommate because the house is big, lonely, and having a little bit of help with the bills is always nice. Normally, I would have just asked a friend to move in with me, but they all already have roommates, apartments with leases, or are living with their significant others. I’m not exactly great around strangers, but I figured some company would be better than being alone all the time, and might improve my confidence around new people?_
> 
> _So, my new roommate. He’s an idiot. He leaves the butter on the counter in all weathers, asks the most inane questions like the world will end if he doesn’t know the answer, has a fixation with his hair (no really he spends hours in the bathroom styling it), and I wasn’t expecting him to be so… handsome. The first time we met, when he came to look at the house and the room that he would be renting, most of what I did was stare. I was surprised he wasn’t scared off by my preoccupation with his ass (but really if he’s going to wear butt huggers it’s not my fault i notice right?)_
> 
> _I have no idea if it’s just because of his good looks, or something more, but I’m torn between punching him and kissing him half the time when we interact (that is if I’m not hiding in my bedroom from him). Plus, I’m a man, and I have no idea if he’s attracted to men at all or not. And even if he was, I don’t know why he’d be with me or if I could last a week before I throttled him. I mean, I’m hot, but not on his level at all (He could wear goddamn trash bags and make them look like haute couture) and like what if I just gross him out or smt!?!?_
> 
> _What do I do?!?_
> 
> _Confused About Love_
> 
>  

 

Wow.

Whoever Confused About Love was they were in one heck of a tangle alright, but relationship tangles were Uncle Art’s speciality. It was the kind of thing he loved, a problem with so many working parts it would stump even the best relationship counsellors. Unrequited attraction and/or hate, unknown gender preference, cohabiting with a crush. Yep this was going to be a fun!

Suppressing a grin Phichit cracked his knuckles and went to town on that bad boy.

 

* * *

 

 

When Saturday finally rolled around Phichit indulged himself in a lie-in, snuggled deeply under his duvet with the weak February sunlight barely breaking through the curtains. He loved the calm of weekend mornings, being able to simply laze and bask in the uninterrupted silence of his apartment, hamsters sleeping soundly and nothing to drag him from the warmth of his bed. He was considering pulling up the tumblr app and having a little extra indulgence in the form of his side-blog when his phone began vibrating endlessly on the bedside table. He swiped to accept the call without really looking at who the hell was calling him at nine am on a weekend.

“ _He’s doing it again!!_ ” it’s hissed in a whisper that’s full of wrath.

Ah. Yuuri.

“Who’s doing what?” he scrubbed at his eyes, the last vestiges of sleep being thrown from him at the sound of Yuuri’s annoyance.

“ _Victor_. He’s singing again. It started an hour ago.”

Yep that’d about do it. If there was anyone who was worse at mornings than Phichit it was Yuuri, two years of rooming together had trained Phichit to be just as slovenly when it came to weekends. When they’d lived together in their second year they’d started their sunday morning slobs club, rules included no pants unless elasticated and no food unless harmfully filled with sugar and saturated fats. Yuuri’s newest housemate seemed not to have gotten the message yet, but it was to be expected he supposed, they’d only known eachother for a few weeks and their combined housewarming was to take place that evening.

“It’s driving me insane Phichit, if he’s not singing he’s humming, if he’s not humming he’s tapping his fingers on every surface. It’s-”

“A bad habit?”

“It’s like it’s his mission in life to irritate the shit out of me.” Yuuri sounds edgier than usual, probably the combined stress of the upcoming housewarming and his new housemates quirk.

“So if you throttle him to death before the party at least he’ll die knowing he fulfilled his life's work.”

“You’re not helping Phichit.”

“Probably not, but I’m gonna head over in a few hours so you can introduce me to the irritating git and we can dissect all of your annoyance in person.” he grins at the huff of Yuuri’s laughter over the line, “and if you happen to actually kill him before the party then I can help you hide the body before the guests arrive, no need for us to go full Weekend at Bernie’s or anything.”

“Okay, no Weekend at Bernies. But if you don’t rescue me soon I can’t promise his limbs will be intact for your introduction.”

“Fine. Fine, I’m getting up I swear. Listen, I’m getting out of bed, riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight now.” He exaggerated throwing off his duvet noisily, “Hear that? That's the sound of my sweet yet attainable ass hauling out of bed just for you Yuuri-”

“Perfect, get that tight butt over here. I need reinforcements ASAP.”

“You got it. Don't murder any Russians before I get there!” Hanging up without saying goodbye is an asshole trick, but Yuuri loves him enough to forgive him anything so he ends the call jauntily and busies himself with gathering breakfast, thinking idly of Confused About Love and wondering if he'd managed to contain his exuberance yet still give some form of adequate advice.

He hoped the guy would be alright…

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri huffed a laugh at Phichits sudden dismissal, the conversation having at least alleviated some of his annoyance with his ridiculous house mate. A housemate who had just finished singing Toxic by Britney Spears and moved onto Carly Rae Jepson.

_Okay annoyance mounting again._

Only a few hours and Phichit would land to help him set up for the housewarming, hiding the last few unpacked boxes and doing ice runs. He could manage a couple of hours without losing it, surely?

His frustration was a new thing, and paired with the urge to either punch or kiss the beautiful git he spent a lot of time running his hands through his hair in exasperation. This morning Yuuri only burrowed further into his bed and tried valiantly to ignore the sounds of ‘Let’s get lost’ siphoning under his closed door.

It'd been two weeks, not even a full two weeks but one week and five days since Victor had moved himself in, the never ending stream of annoying habits and quirks was only slightly alleviated by Makkachin, his saving grace as far as Yuuri was concerned. Huge and fluffy and just the right level of snuggly, it kinda helped that she reminded Yuuri of Vicchan who was keeping his parents company back in Hausetsu while their kids tried their hand at the American dream.

He and Mari had struck out to the US together, Yuuri to college and Mari to an internship with a music label in Detroit. It worked out well for them, being in the same city meant that they could keep tabs on each other but they weren’t in each others pockets 24/7. Mari’s internship had turned into a full-time gig, travelling around in the wake of bands and acting like she wasn’t having fangirl meltdowns every ten seconds, or locked in studios supervising recording sessions. Yuuri was proud of his sister’s success, proud that she’d achieved her dream. He’d dropped her a text three days ago about the housewarming and received a lukewarm response alluding to the need for eighteen prozac and sledgehammer to get through the studio sessions before she could commit to her lil bro’s house party. He'd replied with several grumpy emojis.

The only other person he’d texted with grumpy emojis this week had been Victor, who had text him from the bathroom asking Yuuri to join him for a shower. Annoyed emojis were the most mild reaction he could summon. He had considered running to the bathroom and suggesting Victor learned about personal space and manners, but had settled for the text. Although there was a very small part of him, a miniscule, tiny part of him that had wanted to join Victor. Okay maybe not so small. Yuuri had eyes, and a twenty four years olds appetites, and had been given more than one eyeful of what the other man was offering in the last week. He wasn’t immune to the other man's looks, nor the way he always seemed to brush past him when they passed in the hall or on the way to the fridge. It had only been five days and he could already feel the need to do something reckless ticking under his skin, making his fingers curl in anticipation.

Yuuri was pulled from his musings by the vibration of the phone buried somewhere under his left arm, chirping with incoming notifications. He grabbed the thing and unlocked it, noticing only now that he’d missed a call from Guang Hong and had messages from JJ, Leo and Mari, none of which caught his attention like the tiny tumblr notification- @ask-uncle-art has answered your ask. The tumblr app takes a few seconds to pull its head out of its ass before it displays the post:

 

 

_Anonymous asked:_

  
_...I have no idea if it’s just because of his good looks, or something more, but I’m torn between punching him and kissing him half the time when we interact (that is if I’m not hiding in my bedroom from him). Plus, I’m a man, and I have no idea if he’s attracted to men at all or not. And even if he was, I don’t know why he’d be with me or if I could last a week before I throttled him. I mean, I’m rather plain looking, not on his level at all (He could wear goddamn trash bags and make them look like haute couture) and like what if I just gross him out or smt!?!?_

_What do I do?!?_

_Confused About Love_

 

> **ask-uncle-art replied:**
> 
> Hey there Confused, you're in a pickle there huh?
> 
> So cohabiting with someone you're attracted to can be a real pain in the ass, especially if you're unsure of their orientation. Also it sounds kinda like you're mad at them? I'd definitely suggest getting to know this person a little better before you jump him, pretty doesn't always equal palatable.
> 
> It bears mentioning that even if the dude is gay it won't necessarily mean he's going to be attracted to you, I roomed with a bi guy for years and we never took the train to pound town, he was hot, I'm hot but there's not always anything there.
> 
> Get to know the guy and see if you're still interested, if you are then you'll have to weigh the pros and cons of a relationship then, especially considering you live together so if it doesn't work out then the morning fight over the last banana might be even messier than usual.
> 
> Hope it all works out for you Confused,
> 
> Uncle Art

 

Well that was an answer… and yes he supposed it covered all the bases. Get to know Victor though? The guy was kinda squirrely at the best of times, whenever Yuuri had tried to get any information out of him Victor had swiftly turned the conversation away and evaded further digging. And Uncle Art was right about the banana thing, or the breakups thing, whatever. It was a terrible idea to fuck his housemate.

Problem solved, he guessed.

Well excepting the fact that once he finally managed to pry himself out of his pit he found Victor, no longer singing but doing naked yoga in the family room and had to hightail it to the kitchen and relative safety.

Okay. So problem definitely not solved and needs resolving in the immediate future otherwise first introductions with Phichit could get messy.

Convincing Victor that naked yoga, while very entertaining to him was a less than appropriate activity when they were meant to be preparing for guests took several minutes and more convincing than Yuuri would have believed. He ended up chivvying Victor up the stairs brandishing a crumpled pair of jeans at the man whose protests of ‘But Yuuri there’s no point doing yoga if I’m restricted by my clothing!’ were enough to make his blood boil. It was almost like he was trying to annoy him.

“Come on old man, you don’t want to catch hypothermia and die now do you?” Yes, Yuuri was being an asshole, but right now he could make direct eye contact with Victors dick and it was setting him further on edge.

“Old? Why Yuuri you wound me.”

“If you don’t put these pants on wounding will be the least of your worries, Victor.” Yes, he has the maturity of a five year old right now, but fuck it he’d been polite all week, and the teasing tone in Victor’s voice was begging to be kissed away. Or punched. It would probably be the latter. Although it seemed a shame to spoil his good looks with bruising. Kiss then. Ugh. He was just so fucking frustrated. There was an assessing look in Victor’s eye, as if he was daring Yuuri to do something stupid.

Victor, Victor, Victor. That’s all he could think of theses days. He was practically obsessed with-

“Victor?” The front door creaked open behind Yuuri’s back, his body turning quickly to face whoever was was intruding on this particularly hellish scene utterly forgetting he was balancing precariously mid-step, clutching Victors pants and brandishing them like a madman. It was inevitable really, that he’d lose his balance, hanging for one heart stopping second in the weightlessness before the fall, only to feel the firm grip of Victor’s fingers scrabbling at his shoulders, pulling him backwards in a struggle of limbs that had him slide down two steps and landing with his head pillowed in Victor’s thigh.

Worse than the feeling of being interrupted mid argument, worse than being caught in the act of potentially jumping his housemate (Uncle Art be damned), worse even than the bruise that was no doubt forming on his hip where he’d hit the stairs, was the knowledge that Victors dick was pressed happily into his right cheek, it was practically a physical embodiment of the last two weeks.

“Well it seems the party started without me, no?” This came from the man frozen in the doorway taking in the scene. “You must be Yuuri, I can see what Victor means, that was a very unique way of introducing oneself.”

“Um.” Yuuri manages, as Victor trills “Chris!” excitedly under him.

“Victor, perhaps you’d like to remove your genitals from the nice man’s face and put those pants on?” There’s a grin evident in the man’s voice, but Yuuri is too busy scrambling away from Victor to even attempt introductions or grace. He manages to regain his feet, and to throw the pants in Victor’s general direction. “Come along now, we have a party to prepare for!”

Between himself and the man (who introduces himself as Chris once Yuuri’s regained some semblance of normality and removed himself for Victor’s general area) they manage to get Victor clothed without much more fuss. Victor is chirpy as ever, excitedly chatting to Chris about who’s invited, dragging Yuuri into the conversation to ask about his friends. It’s nice.

Which is weird.

It won’t be long until Phichit is here though, and hopefully they can dissect this weird tension that seems to be building between him and his new housemate. Internet relationship gurus are all well and good, but Yuuri could do with a little bit of best friend sympathy right now, especially when he can feel the weight of Chris and Victor’s combined gaze following him as he sweeps the kitchen floor. He hurries away to the second floor as soon as he’s able, counting the seconds until Phichit lands.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reviews and kudos! Hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter! We're having way too much fun writing this! :)
> 
> -Sky


	3. That's not PUNny Phichit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a study in bad puns and all the reasons why Victor is a drama queen...

Being the best best friend in the history of best friendship has several facets, one of which is never announcing one's arrival unless loudly and proudly, hence the reason Phichit sweeps through the front door of Yuuri’s house crowing, “Honey I’m Home!! Where’s my man with the ass that won’t quit?”

 

It might seem overkill, yes, but Yuuri would want nothing less from the best best friend in the world. He’s very comfortable in their relationship, they’re best best friends after all, he is not, however, expecting the answer to come from someone other than Yuuri.

 

“Why I’m right here, so kind of you to ask.” The answer comes from a guy with the most ridiculous green eyes he’s ever seen, and yes, Phichit does take note that this one also has an ass that won’t quit before he squints at the man.

 

“Hmm, but you’re not Yuuri.” the frown is put on, the other man raises his eyebrows in response.

 

“No indeed, I’m not your Yuuri. He’s upstairs I think. I do however have a nice ass, so I fit the descriptor.” The guy gives him a less than subtle once over that Phichit meets head on with one of his own. Coyness isn’t really in either of their skill sets it would seem.

 

“You’re not wrong, you do have a nice ass.” The guy grins at that, “And you’re not Russian, so I take it you’re not the housemate either.”

 

“Not guilty of that particular sin, no. I’m Swiss actually, if you’re asking.”

 

“Swiss huh? Nice. Does Mr. Swiss with the ass that don’t quit have a name?” and yes Phichit is shamelessly flirting with the hot guy with the nice eyes, but it’s saturday and he’s here to have fun right? Yuuri will be totally fine with him hitting on strangers in his house, they’re best best friends after all, and the guy doesn’t seem to be resisting the temptation to flirt immediately. Perfect.

 

The hot guys snorts, actually _snorts_ at the question and offers a hand, “I’m Chris.”

 

 _“You’re kidding.”_ Okay, no way did that just happen. Phichit has never, ever had something that perfect land in his lap.

 

“Nope.” Chris’ eyes are dancing with mirth, lips twisting into a smile than Phichit returns with a laugh. “Christope Giacometti.”

 

“Phichit Chulanont,” he shakes Chris’ hand lightly fingers brushing as they part, “It’s _very_ nice to meet you Swiss-Chris-with-the-ass-that-dont-quit.”

 

Whatever laughter Chris had been containing behind his smile bubbles up, throaty in a way that Phichit feels it in his nerve endings. They share smiles, standing far too close together for having literally just met, “The pleasure is all mine.” Chris all but purrs down at him, the scant inches between them are teasing all kinds of good tension and Phichit is very close to proposing they ditch this popsicle stand and go back to his apartment - mutual attraction was never something to just pass up.

 

However, Yuuri clears his throat loudly from the stairs, cocking an eyebrow at him having clearly just witnessed the entire thing.

 

“Ah, it seems the other guy turned up.” Chris grins at him again, all heat and promise, hand finding his and raising it to his lips. “Shall we pick this back up later Phichit?”

 

“Chris!” and that would definitely be the Russian one then. The man sounds scandalised as he enters the hallway, white blonde hair ruffled and looking shocked, “I can’t believe you’re hitting on Yuuri’s friend. I’m so sorry, he’s incorrigible- I’m Victor by the way! What must you think- Chris you’re the worst best friend. I’m so sorry Yuuri, I promise he’s harmless-” He elbows Chris out of the way to greet Phichit. Yuuri only laughs.

 

“Yeah I wouldn’t worry about it Victor, as far as I saw they’re both as bad as eachother.”

 

“Bad? I didn’t think it was _bad..._ ” Chris holds a hand to his chest dramatically.

 

“I dunno, I did just sweep you off your feet with a pun-”

 

“That pun was perfect, I expect you to save my number under it.” Oh hell yes. He pulls his phone from his bag, still slung over his shoulder and hands it over to Chris immediately.

 

“And your number is?”

 

“Oh wow, they’re really doing that aren’t they?” Victor sounds a little awestruck.

 

“Looks like it.” Phichit is aware of this exchange on the periphery of putting his number in Chris’ phone, he surrounds his name with kiss emojis, Chis seems to be less subtle and has surrounded the terrible pun with eggplants. “Looks like I’m being dragged away dearest, later yes?”

 

“ _Very much yes_ .” Chris winks at him, already being corralled away. “Victor, ow ow. _Hey!_ ”

 

“Nice moves there.” Yuuri is still looking amused, corners of his lips twitching up into a wry smile, “You couldn’t have waited ten minutes?”

 

“Ten minutes? Can you imagine what could have happened in ten minutes? Someone else could have come along with a better pun and swept that piece of fine away from me cruelly!” Yes he’s being melodramatic, but suddenly this evening is looking to be a _lot_ more fun. “Did you see that ass Yuuri? I could bounce quarters off it, Oh my god!”

 

“I honestly hadn’t noticed, but now you mention it-” Yuuri hops down the stairs giving him his best _‘I’m so innocent’_ face, Phichit hates that face, it always leads to trouble- usually the drunk kind.

 

“No. Nope, I saw him first. Avert your eyes at all times from that perfection.” They’re grinning stupidly at each other, devolving into a well worn script written over years of stupidity and injokes.

 

“And what happens if I don’t?”

 

“I’ll divorce you, and then you’ll have to buy a hundred cats to keep you company in your old age.”

 

“You could never, how dare you! I thought we were soulmates!”

 

“Nope, I think I just met mine. He likes puns and his own ass as much as I do.”

 

“Yeah no kidding. I thought I was going to have to get the hose. That was some serious tension you guys built up.” Yuuri isn’t joking anymore, he’s watching Phichit shrewdly. “I’m not going to presume to give you the safe sex spiel, I expect you to be a good best best friend and look out for yourself.”

 

“ _Yes Mom._ ”

 

“Phichit-”

 

“No really, I’m a big boy and I’m fully aware of all the terrible things out there, I’m not risking this ass for anything.” He’s being a bit blasé, but they both know he’s not stupid enough to risk himself for a few minutes of fun.

 

“Good, I’d miss your ass.”

 

“I know you would, it makes the best pillow I’m told.”

 

“Of course it does.” Yuuri’s eye rolling again, it’s a good sign. “Well there’s plenty to do, shall we head out to the store?”

 

“Can I go give Swiss Chris a Kiss first?” He’s joking. Well half joking, the guys lips has looked incredibly tempting...

 

“Absolutely not. Move your ass, Chulanont.”

 

“Now who’s obsessed with my ass?”

 

“Move it or lose it!” Yuuri gives him a nudge to the door and he follows, spring in his step only slightly due to the hot dude he was totally gonna hit on all night.

 

* * *

 

 

Victor has finished tidying the living room and moves onto the kitchen, dragging Chris away from his shameless flirting and putting him to the task of emptying the trash. _Serves him right,_ and yes perhaps Victor is a little bitter. He’s been friends with Chris long enough to know that his behaviour with Yuuri’s friend was out of the ordinary, yet he’s still annoyed. They made it look so _easy_.

 

Victor has never been good at approaching people, he’s used to being approached. All of his twenty eight years (or at least since he hit puberty) he’s drawn looks and had people blatantly check him out. He’s used to being chased, so used to it in fact that he suddenly found himself wrong footed in the presence of his landlord. When Yuuri had answered the door to him looking a thousand percent done, his hair awry and glasses slipping on his nose, Victor had been very comfortable in the sudden look of shock on Yuuri’s face, it was standard, it was normal.

 

Yuuri seemed shy, cute enough and he looked in shape… yet there was something about the other man, something buried behind the glasses and polite manner that was making Victor look harder. It was the absolutely shameless way Yuuri had looked at him, the way he seemed to be measuring every word and action around him that drew him in. Something about Yuuri just screamed that he was special, and Victor was trying his damndest to find out what. Yet Yuuri pulled away, hiding behind that shy polite demeanour that flew in the face of the looks he threw out when he thought Victor wouldn’t see.

 

Victor wasn’t good at being the one to chase, he’d overdone it, tripped up somewhere along the road to getting behind Yuuri’s mask and had shut himself out in one fell swoop. He’d intently listened in to Yuuri and Phichits conversation, their easy manner with each other pushing him further into his jealousy by degrees. Maybe he could ask Phichit for some help? But that smacked too much of desperation… He’d start with Chris, if he could pull his best friends head out of his ass for five minutes and get any kind of sensible answer from him.

 

He is, however, also terrible at communication in every respect. So instead of being polite, or outlining the problem, he simply whines: “How do you make it look so easy?!?” the moment Chris joins him in the kitchen again. Chris shoots him an alarmed look.

 

“What are you talking about Vitya?”

 

“What am I talking about? _That!_ That thing you just did with Yuuri’s friend.” He’s gesturing vaguely in the direction of the hallway, flapping a hand emphatically.

 

“That’s called flirting, Vitya. When two very hot people enjoy each other's hotness enough it tends to naturally occur.”

 

“Yes, but usually it just _happens_ to me, but somehow Yuuri doesn’t seem to be getting the hint? Like at any given time I’m always the hottest person in any room right-”

 

“Um. No. But I see where you’re going with this..” Chris rolls his eyes at him, fond smile playing at his lips.

 

“Yeah but Yuuri doesn’t seem to want to be around me? Or maybe I’m just too hot? Oh! I- Chris, is that it? Am I intimidatingly hot?”

 

“Oh for fucks sake Vitya. That’s probably not the problem.” Victor’s heard of facepalming before but never witnessed it in real life, yet here he is with his best friend literally burying his face in his hands and scrunching his face up in frustration.

 

“And you’re sure about that?” He knows he’s being a dick, but Chris’ reactions are priceless at this point. Perhaps he should snap them? Yuuri might enjoy them… “Maybe Yuuri doesn’t know how hot _he_ is? Oh my God Chris, what if he doesn’t know his face is practically a Caravaggio? How do I tell him. This need immediate action!” He moves to jump from his seat with a grin, Chris stops him with a laugh.

 

“No, Vitya. Probably not the problem here, that man _knows_ how hot he is. Or if he doesn’t he’s an idiot?”

 

“Okay. But what do I do about the ridiculously hot guy across the hall who won’t notice me?”

 

“Have you considered talking to him?” Chris gives him an unimpressed look when he shrugs.

 

“Well I tried the first night we moved in, but I think he was kinda exhausted? Or he wasn’t in the mood to talk? And I guess after that we just haven’t had a chance? Or he’s avoiding me?” Chris raises his eyebrows at this, “Well, I mean I might have flashed him the next day and he seemed a little less than impressed by _that_ . But even if he wasn’t actively avoiding me I have no idea how to even begin a conversation with him. People usually come for me, not the other way around, what do I talk about? What do I say? ‘Hi Yuuri, I think you’re, like, _super hawt_ and totally want you to dick me down’?”

 

“Well you could lead with that, and if he’s not taking the hint then maybe he’s straight? Also your valley girl accent could use some work.”

 

“Oh wow. Ouch. Way to kick me when I’m down asshole.”

 

“Vitya, in all seriousness, I love you but you have to be the most dense person I’ve ever met. If you like him then tell him- without pressing your genitals to his face, flashing him, or doing naked yoga. Basically try putting your pants on first, and using your mouth hole for something that isn’t humming irritating pop music?”

 

“How did you know I’d been humming?”

 

“You do it when you’re nervous, idiot.”

 

Any retort that Victor could have supplied was rendered useless by the return of the man in question and his best friend, who stalked into the room, planting himself at the kitchen island beside Chris and crooning, “Hi there gorgeous, come here often?” with a huge grin and wiggle of his eyebrows for effect.

 

“Not particularly, but for you I’d come anywhere.”

 

Victor has to bite his tongue for fear of cackling, Yuuri however seems to have no qualms with it and laughs outright, setting himself beside Victor. “They grow up so fast don’t they?” Yuuri grins at him.

 

Victor barely bites back a surprised gasp that Yuuri’s actively engaging him in conversation, and _smiling_ . Yuuri’s smiles are amazing, he’d seen them once or twice when he talks on the phone with his sister in Japanese, or when he’d been watching Chris and Phichits shameless flirting that afternoon, but this one, _this smile_ is all for _Victor_. Victor who suddenly realises he’s been staring at Yuuri for far too long as the smile begins to fade slightly.

 

“Too fast, get a room you two.” Victor applauds his recovery, with a tiny grin.

 

“ _A room?_ But Victor they’re not even married yet!” Yuuri replies in an playfully scandalised tone, “One of them will have to make an honest man of the other before they could possibly-”

 

“Oh, yes definitely! We’ll have to buy matching hats for the occasion- our babies all grown up” and yes, Victor might have done tiny seal claps and bounced in his seat, but Yuuri’s smile is back in full force and Victor can’t contain himself.

 

“Matching hats? You think you’re going to put me in one of those monstrosities I’ve seen in your closet?” Apparently Yuuri is a murderer, because Victor has just been _slain._ That smile should be illegal-

 

“Those are avant-garde, darling. Surely you appreciate the artistry?”

 

“Far too high-brow for my tastes sweetie.” Yuuri taps a hand against his bicep, Victor is beaming back at him, enjoying seeing this side of Yuuri, _this_ little ray of what might be hidden under all those layers of reticence. He’s vaguely aware that Chris and Phichit have fallen silent on the other side of the island, but he’s too far under the spell of Yuuri’s smile to give half a shit.

 

“Yeah, we’re definitely the ones who need to get a room right now.”

 

“Phichit-” There’s a dangerous note in Yuuri’s voice as he addresses his best friend.

 

“Oh don’t mind _us, we’re_ just enjoying the show.”

 

“Very mature.” Yuuri replies, Victor feels like he’s watching the world's slowest car crash as Yuuri’s expression closes off, “Don’t we have groceries to unload Phichit?” and he stalks off back into the hallway without waiting for a reply, leaving a devastated Victor and uncomfortable silence in his wake.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so progress report, we've got another four chapters written and I'm super happy with them!
> 
> I hope everyone is enjoying this cracky nonsense as much as we're enjoying reading it! Hit us up with comments or just pop into our tumblrs!
> 
> Nik


	4. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ~Party~ (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This house party had the weirdest discordant notes thrown into it. He still wasn’t entirely sure if he was comfortable yet, his perch on the arm of the sofa definitely wasn’t, the light back and forth of his friends was a welcome distraction from his preoccupation with the silver haired git on the opposite end.

There were hundreds of things that could get lost in translation, little cultural norms which even years after arriving in the US could jarr Yuuri for a few seconds before moving along with his relatively quiet life, or it had been before Victor Nikiforov landed in his world. One of those things that didn’t quite translate between the Japanese and US was the drinking culture- in his home country there were drinking parties, select groups of friends or potential dates, small and contained with overindulgence being happenstance but frowned upon, he’d never been to a drinking party in Japan- too young and too scared, but Mari had had a few interesting experiences, crawling back to their parents inn in varying states of inebriation. 

 

In the US there were house parties, house parties were Yuuri’s absolute favorite way to get trashed. He's with people he knows and likes, there's music he can mess around with and they can fall into YouTube holes if they want. One very memorable house party had involved beer pong followed by an hour long marathon of vines. Yuuri loved house parties, they were comfortable and safe and he could get as hammered as he liked without worrying about embarrassing himself. 

 

_ This _ house party however,  _ this _ one had the weirdest discordant notes thrown into it. He still wasn’t entirely sure if he was comfortable yet, his perch on the arm of the sofa definitely wasn’t, the light back and forth of his friends was a welcome distraction from his preoccupation with the silver haired git on the opposite end. 

 

Victor is the life and soul of the party, naturally, currently chatting with a dark haired guy called Georgie who’d met Yuuri at the door with an already open bottle of Vodka clutched in his grasp and a maudlin look as Yuuri had ushered him in. The cousin- Yuri was sat between them with an expression like thunder as he argued with them in indecipherable Russian. 

 

JJ and Guang Hong were locked in conversation with a redhead that had been introduced as Milla when she had arrived with Yuri, currently talking about their respective jobs. Phichit had been collared by a very drunk Georgi patting the seat beside him and Victor, and was enumerating all of the things he missed about his ex-girlfriend Anya, the break-up seemed fresh judging by the iron grip he had on the now almost empty bottle of Vodka. Phichit was shooting desperate glances at the other end of the sofa, trying to catch Yuuri’s eye, hoping for an easy out. Yuuri grins, and being the best best friend to the asshole who called him out in front of Vitkor earlier, he simply drained the last mouthful of his beer and leaves the room with a smirk.

 

It was probably a dick move to leave his best friend in the clutches of a drunk and morose Russian, but Yuuri couldn't currently muster much sympathy. All was fair in love and war after all, and Phichit had definitely declared war when he’d called Yuuri out earlier. If anything Yuuri would have to up his game in this particular battle if he was going to exact his revenge. He was absently rolling vague ideas around, helping himself to another beer when Chris joined him in the kitchen, leaning a hip against the island and giving Yuuri a thorough once-over.

 

“So Yuuri, how’re you finding your new housemate? I hear he’s been keeping you on your toes at least.” He’s being measured up and he knows it, Chris is all lavacious smiles and oozing charm but beneath the surface he’s digging for info, looking to protect his best friend no doubt. Yuuri offers him the beer he’d retrieved, which Chris accepts with a nod of thanks and Yuuri grabs one for himself.

 

“Never a dull moment” It’s not even a lie, and could be passed of as a compliment, and while Victor has been getting on his nerves pretty much twenty-four seven since he moved his first bags into the house, Yuuri’s not exactly going to tell  _ Chris  _ that little fact.

 

Nor is he going to inform his housemates best friend about the whopping crush he’d been working up. Nope. That’s going with him to the grave.

 

“Hmm. Yes, Victor can be  _ quite _ the handful, if you know what I mean.” 

 

_ That could mean just about anything. _

 

“I’m sure I don’t want to find out.” Chris gives a small chuckle and raises his beer, giving Yuuri another appraising look, Yuuri takes a swig of his beer waiting for whatever the hell Chris had on his mind that had dragged his ass away from the party. 

 

“You could be good for him actually.” If Yuuri’s life had been an anime series, he would have done a quintessential Japanime spit-take and sprayed beer over the counter. Instead he simply swallowed around the mouthful of beer quickly and gave a small cough.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Well, Victor has always been something of a danger to himself. Never sees where he’s going until it’s too late to turn back, if you know what I mean?” Yuuri shrugs, not sure where the hell Chris is going with this, “Victor is… not good with himself. He doesn't open up to  _ anyone _ about his problems. Even if he was having  _ the _ worst day, the moment you ask he’s all sunshine and glitter.” Chris looks conflicted, chewing his lip momentarily and scrutinising Yuuri closely, “He’s had problems with low mood in the past, and he’s never been a good sleeper and-”

 

“You’re aware you’re listing the symptoms of depression, right?” Chris’ look is sharp, Yuuri’s word pulling him into laser focus.

 

“I am. Although Victor is less than fond of anyone mentioning it.” If Chris is aiming for nonchalance he’s falling far short. He looks  _ worried.  _

 

Yuuri isn’t a stranger to mental health problems, he has his own lovely list of symptoms he’s been dealing with since he’d been hit with his first anxiety attack in his early teens. The thought of Victor living with one is a strange occurrence though, the man exudes confidence like it’s a second skin, and he greets Yuuri every morning with wide smiles and happily inane chatter. Hell he was currently holding court in the knot of their combined friendship groups, gesturing wildly. Yuuri watches him for a moment, catching his profile as he’s laughing at something his cousin bites out. Victor seems to feel the weight of his gaze and their eyes catch for just a second, Victor looking wide-eyed and shooting him a grin. He knows Chris is watching him, gauging his reaction carefully as he processes the information.

 

“Listen, I’m not expecting you to babysit him. He’s a grown man and can deal with his own shit, but-”

 

“But you worry about him.” Yuuri gets it, he his own contingent of people who worry. Mari and Phichit mainly.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yeah I get it,” Chris is looking minutely relieved, expression morphing at Yuuri’s words and brightening. “I’ll drop you a text if I’m worried or something?”

 

“That’d be perfect. I’ll get your number from Phichit?” 

 

“Sure. Speaking of Phichit. Yeah you two seem to be having fun tonight.”  _ He’s _ fishing for information this time, watching the other man at the mention of his best friend. Chris brightens immediately.

 

“Hmmm, yes. He’s very accommodating your friend, and so pretty!” 

 

“Don’t let him hear you say that, I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

 

“Well, he  _ is _ pretty Yuuri. You must have noticed. Have you seen his eyes? They’re just so big and so grey and so-” 

 

_ Oh crap they’re as bad as eachother _

 

“Yeah I’m gonna stop you there.” Someone save Yuuri from every person around him being a drama queen, but Chris’ giggling is infectious

 

“And yet somehow he’s barely spoken to me since everyone started arriving,” Chris clutches his chest dramatically, “He’s surely forsaken me!!”

 

Yuuri takes a swig of his beer, bitter notes sticking to his tongue as the niggling beginnings of an evil plan tickled the edges of his brain, a perfect Phichit revenge…

 

“Hey asshat, ever heard of checking your cell? I was knocking for an age before this one found me,” Mari swans into the kitchen clutching three bottles of liquor with Victor following looking excited. Yuuri shoots the bottles a curious look and Mari rolls her eyes, “I’m on catch up. Whats our poison tonight baby bro? Tequila, Jaeger, or flaming Sambuca.”

 

“I’ve always been a fan of anything  _ flaming _ .” Chris grins as Mari joins them at the island. Victor is busying himself with rounding up shot glasses, rifling through cupboards and humming to himself. 

 

“I’m loving the digs  Otōto, and that’s a one hell of a housemate you’ve landed. We gonna show him what you’re made of?” Yuuri knows he shouldn’t let her bait him, but  Mari is eyeing him speculatively, challenge ringing in her voice, “Choose your poison, Yuuri.” His half formed plan of petty revenge comes to fruition in his mind as he considers the liquor, cogs turning.

 

“Tequila.” Mari cheers him for a second before he cuts her off, “ _ Slammers. _ ”

 

“Oh hells yes! Best little brother in history!” 

 

“Oh, are we doing bodyshots?” Phichit’s voice carries over the slightly tipsy hubbub filtering through the open kitchen doors, he extracts himself from conversation with Georgi and corrals the group in the living room, “Come on guys, Yuuri’s doing shots! Best day ever!”

 

“Hell yes! Come on Yuuri, show these guys who’s boss!” Leo crows, with Guang Hong piping in a, “YOLO Yuuri!” with zero irony.

 

“Are you renown for your endurance or just showmanship?” Victor asks from where he’s jammed into Yuuri’s side, wielding a knife and a lime like it’s his job. Yuuri’s friends start chattering and egging each other into the room, crowding the kitchen.

 

“Showmanship every time. Yuuri had the best reputation on campus-” JJ starts with all of the signs of running into a full recap of their college days, before Yuuri hisses, “Yes which we agreed to never discuss in front of Yuuri’s elder sister.”

 

“Did you just refer to yourself in third person?”

 

“Shut up Leo-”

 

“Yuuri had a  _ reputation? _ ” Mari looks gleeful at the opportunity for some dirt.

 

“Unless you’re pouring shots or taking them I’m not talking to you!” Yuuri frowns at Mari, who grins evilly at JJ over his shoulder and pulls up a shot glass. Yuuri can only hope he can intercept his sister before she corners the Canadian and he all too willingly tells her  _ everything _ he did in college. In the meantime he had some revenge to enact, he grins up at Chris and leans into him. “I’m going to need a volunteer.”

 

Without any more forewarning than that, he gripped the back of Chris’ neck and licked a wide stripe from collar to earlobe “Play along and Phichit is never going to let you out of his sight.” Is dropped into Chris’ ear, before Yuuri draws back gripping the salt cellar pressed into his hand by Mila. Chris grins at him and tilts his head, allowing Yuuri to dust his skin with the salt.

 

“Surely you’d have me remove my shirt, Yuuri. It’s traditional isn’t it?” Yuuri silences Chris with a lime slice to his lips and grabs for the tequila a giggling Guang Hong is offering.

 

“Yuuri-” Phichit starts, but Yuuri’s already throwing the shot back, pulling Chris back in and tracing the line of salt up his throat before capturing the lime delicately, with the tiniest touch of his lips to Chris’. He’s aware of Guang Hong’s phone in his periphery, probably snapping the shit out of this, Leo is cheering loudly. The scratch of Chris’ stubble makes the burn of tequila and lime double up on his tongue, but he doesn’t let it show as he throws a shit-eating grin at his best friend lime gripped in his teeth like a trophy. 

 

“My turn?” Chris’ grin has widened when he saw Phichit’s scandalised look, he’s reaching for the salt and reached for Yuuri. 

 

“No fair!” Phichit grumbles at him, pushing past JJ and grabbing for some lime and throwing Chris  _ the look. _ Yuuri knows  _ the look _ he’s seen it a few times before and it’s always going to be the thing that gets Yuuri his ass handed to him in the end-  _ “Don’t you have a russian to be sulking over?” _ Phichit whispers from Chris’ other side before jamming the lime in his mouth, Chris doesn’t get a second to react before his friends are pressing tequila at him and Phichit is pulling him in. 

 

Yuuri is watching in amusement as Chris is hauled into the nape of Phichits neck to add salt, shot disappearing before the salt and then they’re making out energetically around a lime slice that never stood a chance. There’s a lot of hooting and cheering, more than a few ‘get a room’s’, before they part. Chris is flushed and wide eyed, Phichit  turns to Yuuri and throws him a stank face. It’s pretty perfect, really.

 

Right up until The Russian Phichit had been referring to pipes up with, “Yuuri, do me!” which earns him a pointed look from his best friend and a cheer from the crowd. Hands are pushing him into Victor’s space and there’s a rush to grab for the salt. Yuuri could blame the three beers, the tequila, or just the terrible judgement he’s shown thus far for not protesting loud enough. A three inch height difference really shouldn’t be all that intimidating, yet Victor looms over him with a wide smile. There’s a purred challenge in his voice, a playful smile on his lips when he ask, “How do you want me Yuuri?” 

 

“Uh-” 

 

“Oh, no darlings. Yuuri isn’t getting a choice in this one-” Chris, seemingly recovered from Phichit’s attack grabs the hem of Victors shirt, “Off.”

 

There’s a sword of damocles swinging somewhere over his head, he’s watching it progress closer to his neck in millimeters. Victor’s shirt is pulled free, dropped into the melee of their friends, the salt is being laid into the sharp angle of the hollow in Victor’s collarbone, shot glass being stowed delicately in the waistband of Victor’s jeans. 

 

“Go get him stud!” Phichit urges him forward with a wink. 

 

Yuuri can’t look, can’t take his eyes off that fucking shotglass. He has two options as far as he sees it- go big or go home- and well, he’s at  _ home _ …

 

“Yuuri! Yuuri! Yuuri!!!” JJ is egging him on delightedly, Mari rolls her eyes at him. His confidence is waning under the pressure, he reaches out to grab the shot. 

 

“Nuh uh. No hands Yuuri!” Chris is securing his wrists loosely. Victor quirks a perfectly manicured brow at him, his smile still in place.

 

_ Chris is the worst. _

 

His asshole friends are filming this, he can see them from the corner of his eye- so fuck it. He has to bend at the waist to get to the shot, lips clumsily catching the glass and losing a drop of the shot over his chin before he lets it fall, he swallows the burning liquid quickly, determined to win this one. He meets Victor’s eye as he travels the length of his torso with his tongue and lips, barely grazing a nipple on his path to the salt. There’s a blush blooming on the man’s cheeks that surges when Yuuri pulls a hand free of Chris’ loose hold and grabs strands of that ridiculous hair, leveraging Victor’s collarbone to his lips and licking a wide stripe. He categorises away the small groan pulled from the taller mans lips before wrenching Victor’s face to his and claiming the lime.

 

“Holy crap-”

 

“Yaaaaasss Yuuri!”

 

“Ew that was fucking gross!”

 

“Bro, no more body shots or I’m calling Mom.”

 

Yuuri registers the words, but he’s caught in the trap of Victor’s hands steadying himself on his shoulders, the blush on his own cheeks mirrored back on Victor’s. They’re staring at each other, breaths short and Yuuri’s vaguely aware he’s still got a mouthful of lime rind. Victor is wide eyed and the look is enough that Yuuri half wants to pull the man back into him, to investigate all of the other noises he could pull from him with just his tongue. Heat pools in his abdomen-

 

“Bro, come on I gotta catch up with these guys.” Mari grabs his arm and gestures to where Mila and Georgi and passing their second bottle of Vodka between them.

 

“Uh- Yeah no more body shots. Jaeger?” He’s a little shaky, letting himself be led into the living room, he knows Victor is following.

 

“Sambuca. Jaeger is hideous.” Victor throws himself back into his seat gracelessly as Yuuri and Mari take up the rest of the couch beside him, he’s still shirtless.

 

Mari lines up the shots, making snide comments about the half-naked man pressed up next to Yuuri in Japanese. Victor claims his glass and grins before it’s pressed to his lips, Yuuri follows the line of his throat as his head tilts back to empty the glass.

 

“I see what you meant about showmanship Yuuri, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” the words are for Yuuri, dropped into the inch between them as Victor refills his glass. Yuuri busies himself with his own shot, letting the burn of the acerbic liquid chase the embarrassment down. 

 

He’s glad when Phichit falls into his lap with a laugh, rhapsodising about how much fun he’s having and proposing a drinking game loudly, Yuuri nods along easily and requests a refill, and another. 

 

Then another. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yass Yuuri you #get dat bodyshot mmmmmboi
> 
>  
> 
> I have no self restraint, please forgive me!
> 
> Coming up next week, Smut! --Nik


	5. Oops?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has been informed on many occasions that he’s the most fun drunk in the history of drinking, his friends have folders of video’s on their phones of Yuuri debating philosophy after one too many cocktails. Yuuri pole dancing at a club on his 21st, Yuuri praying to the porcelain god after one too many B52’s. Yuuri remembers none of these occasions, he remembers the beginnings of those nights, some jumbled images, then the hellish hammering that is his morning hangover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday so therefore I'm gifting myself this ridiculous gigglesmut! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy~ Nik

 

Yuuri has been informed on many occasions that he’s the most fun drunk in the history of drinking, his friends have folders of video’s on their phones of Yuuri debating philosophy after one too many cocktails. Yuuri pole dancing at a club on his 21st, Yuuri praying to the porcelain god after one too many B52’s. Yuuri remembers none of these occasions, he remembers the beginnings of those nights, some jumbled images, then the hellish hammering that is his morning hangover. 

 

The things Yuuri knows about his drunk counterpart are that he has zero chill and can perform amazing feats if pushed in the right direction. Hell, he’d woken up one morning after a nights drinking at JJ’s parents’ cabin completely naked and covered in mud and greenery, only discovering the full story after much laughing from his friends and a video of him executing a perfect backfall dive from the fifteen foot ledge over the lake. 

 

Drunk Yuuri was a fucking moron.

 

A fucking moron with little to no inhibitions and too much confidence.

 

Phichit’s drinking games had been a welcome distraction, the music was still loudly pressing into the shouts and laughter of the group, but it had changed from throbbing heavy beats to lighter songs. The mood of the room had shifted along with it, more relaxed, people were breaking off into conversation in pair and threes, drinks still flowing.

 

Yuuri was drunk. 

 

Not horribly messily drunk, but buzzing at the edges and getting restless drunk. Not the kind of drunk that went well when the party was starting to wind down and JJ and Isabella were making moves to leave, calling attention to the lateness of the hour and having their friends check their phones for taxi’s. It couldn’t be helped though, he mused as Yuri, Otabek and Leo rounded a tipsy Guang Hong into their cab, if anything Yuuri should be grateful he hadn’t done anything too stupid tonight.

 

Mari is curled up on one end of the couch, head pillowed on her arms and breathing heavily, Chris and Phichit are taking up the second couch heads inclined together and smiling over something on Phichits phone. Chris scrolls the screen exclaiming and laughing at whatever they’re looking at with Phichit laughing along. It’s cute as hell. Victor is nowhere in sight, Yuuri assumes he’s retired for the night and considers doing the same, leaving the others to fend for themselves.

 

The room is covered in a film of post-party debris, solo cups and plastic shot glasses cluttered on every surface, but Yuuri isn’t in the mood to disturb the room to try tidying it. He heads to the kitchen instead, hoping to put his restless energy to rest by pulling it back to some semblance of normality. He’s brought up short by the sight of Victor sitting at the island scrolling through his phone with a slight frown. He could back off and just head to bed, leave Victor to his phone and the solo cup of what looks to be Vodka at his elbow, but Chris’ words from that evening come floating back to him. 

 

He’ll just check up on him, ensure Victors okay, maybe tidy some of the abandoned lime wedges away, then head to bed. Simple. 

 

“You know it’s a terrible habit, drinking alone?” Victor’s eyes find him in seconds and he brightens instantly.

 

“Yuuri! It wouldn’t be drinking alone if you’d join me!” Victor rifles at the small stack of cups, pulling one out and tipping Vodka into it happily, passing it to Yuuri with a bright smile. “Did you have a good night? Your friends are so much fun, Yuuri!”

 

“Yeah it was a good night, everyone seemed to get along really well-”

 

“I know! It was so much fun, and I’m never going to underestimate Leo ever again after that round of ‘Never have I ever’-”

 

“Leo is the most stealthy drunk I’ve even met, he can be on the floor dying and still get receipts on everyone.”

 

“Okay, don’t trust Leo! Noted!” They share a smile, Yuuri’s buried behind his cup as he takes a drink, “Your sister on the other hand…”

 

Yuuri shudders, “Yeah that was a level of exposition I could have done without. No one needs to know about their siblings sex lives in that much detail.” he winces heavily, drawing a giggle from Victor once he swallows his Vodka.

 

“I don’t blame you, although I have to say I’m fond of Yuri’s new nickname. Mari is a godsend, and a pervert.” He couldn’t exactly disagree, there had been mortification laid upon embarrassment in several of the rounds that had the siblings groaning and pushing at each other childishly, but he couldn’t not defend Mari and her weird obsession with sex toys...

 

“Hey! Don’t call my sister a pervert when I saw you drink to some highly questionable things!”

 

“I’m not a pervert, I’m adventurous!” Victor smiles happily, winking at him cheekily.

 

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that Victor!” Yuuri rolls his eyes in response, Vodka stinging his tongue as he takes another drink.

 

“Anyway you did your own share of drinking which put myself and your poor perverted sister to shame! She was simply mortified by-”

 

“Shut up Victor-”

 

“But I still don’t understand  _ how _ -”

 

“Not talking about it!” Victor watches him from the side of one eye as he finished up his drink, reaching for the bottle again and topping their cups back up. Yuuri can feel the Vodka in his blood, loosening the restlessness and making his smile perk.

 

“Aww no fun Yuuri!” 

 

“I think I’m lots of fun! You don’t think I’m fun Victor?” He’s pouting around the rim of his cup. He might be treading a little too far into waters he’d only just cleared, that pooling heat that had him wanting more-

 

“But the physics of it-” 

 

_ Victor is an actual idiot. _

 

“Oh my god, Victor! No. If you even remember this in the morning I’ll draw you a fucking diagram!” 

 

“I’m going to hold you to that! I’ll never forget, elephants never forget! And I’m an elephant.” He takes a large swig of his Vodka triumphantly.

 

“Yeah, you don’t need to tell me that.” Whoops, there goes the brain to mouth filter too. Yuuri can’t find it in him to care though because Victor frowns for a millisecond before he bursts into raucous laughter.

 

“Oh my god, Yuuri!” He’s doubled over with the force of his laughter, tears pricking his eyes.

 

“What? If you’re going to stick your dick to my face it’s not my fault if I happen to look!” Yuuri is laughing too, Victor clinging to his arm helplessly. “If anything you should apologise, I was attacked Victor!”

 

“I’m so so so sooooo sorry Yuuri, can you ever forgive me? How can I ever repay such a terrible act?”

 

“You could beg on your knees for forgiveness-”

 

“Yuuri! Shocking behaviour!” 

 

“But you owe me an apology Victor!” Victor stills for a second while the words register, then he’s falling forward again giggling into his arms. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Nothing- nothing.” Victor’s still giggling, tips of his ears pink with the hysteria. 

 

“Victooooor!” Yuuri whines, poking Victor's side and making him squirm in his seat. 

 

“No- no this is the worst idea!” Victor is still burying his face in his arms.

 

“But I love bad ideas! Tell me!” He slides imperceptibly closer to Victor, hip pressing into the other man’s where he sits.

 

“ _ Yuuri- _ ”

 

“ _ Victor! _ ”

 

“We- no I can’t Yuuri!” Victor sits up looking at him a little blearily, “You’re so mean Yuuri!”

 

“Don’t you want to be forgiven Victor? How are you going to make it up to me?” Yuuri’s pouting again, they’re so close now that Yuuri can see a hint of green in Victor’s irises. Victor seems to sober a little, pulling Yuuri into focus.

 

“This is a terrible idea.” He drags himself from his seat, finding his footing after a second of imbalance and grabs Yuuri’s arm, marching them past the living room and to the staircase in a few wobbly steps. Yuuri isn’t much better, he’s tripping over his socked feet and clutching Victor for balance, laughter dropping from his lips at the action.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Upstairs obviously-”

 

“Well yes, I can _ see _ that! But why are we going upstairs?” Yuuri manages to get the question out and to not giggle when Victor almost misses a step.

 

“Because that’s where our bedrooms are Yuuri.” Victor answers in a sing-song voice, gaining the landing and pulling Yuuri after him still. Bedrooms, bedrooms are fun, Yuuri always has fun in bedrooms. He tells Victor this happily as he’s shooed into Victor’s room.

 

“I still don’t understand how this means you’ll be getting my forgiveness Victor, I was  _ traumatised _ . You owe me such a big apology.” 

 

“I’m  _ trying  _ to apologise!” Victor laughs, he’s still holding Yuuri’s hand in his as he pulls Yuuri to the bed, “I have the worst idea for an apology, would you like to hear it?” Yuuri lands on the bed beside a giddy Victor, he’s smiling and propping himself on an elbow to look down at Yuuri, who’s nodding and smiling right back. “Well it seems only fair that you repay the favor, as they say. I wouldn’t mind-”

 

“Yes.” Yuuri can’t help himself really, the alcohol has taken off the edges of his anxiety with ease, and now Victor’s giggly and smiling and so  _ close _ .

 

“Yes, what Yuuri?” 

 

“You  _ know _ what.” Yuuri replies petulantly.

 

“I do, but you mother surely must have taught you better manners-” One of Victor’s hands is trailing down Yuuri’s chest, a promising drag of fingers that has Yuuri pushing up into the touch.

 

“Can we not bring my mother into a conversation about my dick and your mouth right now?” 

 

“My mouth? Yuuri! How terribly forward of you!” Victor is eyeing him speculatively again, the look hums in the air just as their moment after the body shots had and Yuuri can feel that tell-tale heat running through his veins once more, burning the Vodka right out in its wake. Shit.

 

“Wait, wait. How drunk are you right now?” He has to ask, he can deal with being tipsy and making a mistake, but he needs to be  _ sure _ .

 

“Not very.” Victor shrugs, “I had two drinks with you and a couple of shots earlier. Other than that I was keeping Yurio company with his Cokes so he didn’t feel left out.”

 

“What?” Victor’s sober?

 

“What, what?” 

 

“You’re sober?”

 

“Drunk enough to ask you very nicely to kiss me please? Sober enough to know that I’ve been waiting for this all night.” Victor smiles sweetly. Well shit, apparently Victor hasn't been completely oblivious to their weird tension. “How about you?”

 

“World's highest alcohol tolerance. I’m buzzed- not drunk.”

 

“Perfect! Can you kiss me now though cuz I’m getting lonely over here.” apparently it's that simple. 

 

“Shut up Victor-”

 

“Shutting up-” Yuuri laughs at Victor’s chirpy tone before he’s rising up and pushing Victor to the mattress.

 

“You are the most infuriating-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, Victor is pulling him down and meeting his words with lips, fingers finding the short hairs at the nape of his neck and toying with them playfully.

 

“Yuuri, I’m working on the worst apology in history here. Your assistance would be most welcome.” Victor’s shirt is pulled off for the second time that night, joining Yuuri’s at the side of the bed, their lips part only long enough to remove them before they’re kissing again. It’s hot and heavy and the heat is building between them, gathering in the space between their groins, Yuuri working his hips against Victor’s in a dragging that has him half-hard. “Yuuri- I’m meant to be making it up to  _ you… _ ”

 

“Of course you’re mouthy in bed,  _ Christ _ .” He’s working at the button of Victor’s jeans, fingers fumbling. Victor mirrors him, shoving his hands at the waistband of Yuuri’s pants and foregoing the button entirely, kissing Yuuri’s neck and grazing teeth over a collarbone that has Yuuri’s blood rushing south.

 

“Like you can talk. Jesus- Fuck are these things fucking  _ glued  _ on?” 

 

“ _ Hold on- _ Fuck- Gimme a sec.” They have to separate momentarily, shucking out of pants and socks, shuffling underwear off the end of the bed before Victor is back on him, repaying him for the body shot in reverse with lips trailing down to his groin in a filthy slide.  

 

“Hello there lil’ Yuuri!” 

 

“Victor I swear to fucking-” The end of the sentence is lost to the firm grip around him, taking him from hard to  _ fucking dying _ in seconds.

 

“You’re sure about this Yuuri? You can’t unsuck your housemates cock-” 

 

“Truer words were never spoken.” Yuuri deadpans, a flat look to where Victor is still running his fist the length of his cock.

 

“Was that  _ sarcasm _ ?” Victor shoots him a scandalised look.

 

“Why, yes Victor it was, how could you tell?" He’s laughing again, the playful grin on Victor’s face making him warm and light in a way he’s never been during sex. He’s giddily following Victor’s lead in this right up until the moment the other man changes his grip, lips hovering ever so slightly out of reach. “Fucks sake Victor just do it already!”

 

“So bossy!” Victor shoots him an eye-roll, but complies readily licking up the length of his cock with a flat tongue before engulfing the head and sinking down. 

 

Yuuri’s experiences with sex have been varied, he’s experimented in his time and enjoyed it immensely. He’s topped, bottomed, rimmed and been rimmed, had messy handjobs in the bathroom stalls of dive bars and had one relationship that encompassed all of the above and ended in heartbreak. He’s been having one night stands more often than not, taking what he needs while the burn of alcohol is still on his tongue and skipping out before the fuzziness edges out of his brain.

 

In all of his experience he has never, ever seen or felt anything as glorious as Victor Nikiforov’s mouth as he works the length of his dick. There must be something about the giggly, silly mood of the room- the effervescent energy that has Yuuri’s grinning stupidly down at Victor as he licks up his dick. It’s sloppy and messy, precome and saliva wetting his length and easing the twist of Victor’s fingers up his shaft, kitten licks and openmouthed kisses running over the head. There’s a moment of sucking twisting heaven that has Yuuri’s finger grasping at the bedcovers for dear life, hips twitching under Victor’s expertise before Yuuri is pulling him off, dragging the other man up the bed and pinning him with a kiss that borders on the all of the right sides of filthy. 

 

He’s chasing the taste of himself into Victor’s mouth, roughly bracketing Victors legs with his own and pressing their dicks together, trapping them in between their bodies in a way that has Victor squirming at the contact. They’re shifting against each other, gasping breaths and sweaty skin, chasing a high that feel like it’s only moments away, but still so far out of reach. Victor makes an impatient noise into his mouth, moving to sit and stilling to lean to the bedside. He fishes a bottle of lube and condom from the drawer.

 

That wasn’t exactly what Yuuri had been expecting, but hell he’s more than game, he’s dead sober now but rolling in the heady knowledge that Victor is hard and waiting against him. Victor must have different ideas, however, as he simply presses them into Yuuri’s hands and says, “Fuck me?” with a devilish grin.

 

“Fuck you?” Because caution has been replaced by assholery and sass today, Yuuri can only reply. “Why Victor, I thought you’d never ask!”

 

“Shut up Yuuri!”

 

“But Victooooooor-”

 

“Will you please just stick your dick in me Yuuri, pretty pretty please?” Victor flutters his eyelashes, “See, one of us has manners-”

 

Yuuri cheerfully shoves at Victor, who smiles happily and falls under Yuuri’s hands willingly, they’re all sloppy kisses and laughter as they tumble into each other. Fumbling hands and loose limbs arranging themselves on the bed. The easy back and forth continues as Yuuri works his fingers into Victor, carefully opening him up and dropping kisses over every inch over skin. 

 

“Yuuri what are you doing down there?? I just want you to fuck me already-”

 

“Needs more lube!”

 

“More lube?? Its gotta be wetter than Lake fucking Erie, just put it in.” Victor rolls his eyes with a huffy expression, so Yuuri searches deeper into his lover.

 

“I’m not going to  _ just put it in _ Victor.” He adds a fourth finger, curling and searching.

 

“Fucks sake I-”  _ There _ it is. “Hngh.”

 

“If I just ram it in you’ll regret it tomorrow. You’ll be sore as fuck and you can’t blame me” He’s watching Victor’s reactions as he falls apart under his hand and can’t help the smug satisfaction that pricks at the corner of his mind at the sight. Victor was always so put together, pulling him apart was a delight. 

 

“I wasn’t planning on  _ blaming _ you. I was gonna make you kiss it better.”

 

Yuuri frees his fingers carefully, sitting back on his heels to look for the condom he’d dropped to the depths of the blanket, now rucked up and messy from the pair of them wrestling themselves into each others bodies for the last half hour. He’s skimming his fingers looking but not finding the fucking thing, about to ask Victor to grab another because he’s hard and heavy between his legs and he’s just about impatient enough to dive in without it, when he looks up and catches Victor’s eye. 

 

Victor has the fucking thing clenched between his teeth, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Yuuri laughs louder and more freely that he has in years at the sight of the most ridiculously handsome man he’s ever seen making such a fucking ass of himself. “Fucking idiot.” He laughs fondly, Victor joining his laughter and grinning cheekily once Yuuri’s reclaimed the condom and secured it around his length.

 

“Hey, are you okay?” It’s taken them a few moments to get fully seated, Victor communicating in half-gasps and pressing fingers on Yuuri’s body. Victor’s features had crinkled in discomfort, Yuuri smoothing the imperfections away with whispers and kisses. 

 

“Fine, I’m fine it’s just been a while.” Victor is smiling at him faintly as he shifts minutely, hips moving in tiny increments as he adjusts to Yuuri, whose arms are shaking in an effort not to crush his partner.  Yuuri himself is gasping at the feeling of being buried in Victor’s body, the first slick slide a grind that has Yuuri groaning and burying his face into the crook of Victor's neck. “ _ Fuck-” _

 

The mood of the room has shifted, there's nothing left of the playfulness that had ruled their foreplay, it's lost in the tides of sighs and buried in the sound of skin on skin as Yuuri lays himself into Victor over and over. They're lost to the push and pull of each other, the grasping fingers, clutch and tense of muscles. 

 

Yuuri draws back as he moves over Victor, bracing himself on lean legs parted over his own thighs, watching as his cock disappears at every thrust of his hips. Victor is laid out beneath him, fucking back onto his cock in roiling sinuous twistings of his hips, one hand curled around his cock and moving with their combined motion. Victor watches him, eyes half lidded, palming himself in a lewd display. A heavy blush running from his cheekbones to chest and that’s dragging Yuuri forward, wanting to feel the heat he’s pulling from Victor against his skin. 

 

He plants his hands deep into the pillow, either side of Victor's face. The sudden proximity, the change of angle, the way Victor is hitching breaths around his name- all of it has Yuuri’s heart racing. He's caught in Victor's embrace, hands on his ass urging him on with biting fingers. His toes curling and fisting under the flex and ripple of Victor around him. The tingling, zinging sensation of climax is curling up his spine, pooling in his abdomen. He captures Victor's lips shakily before burying his face in the crook of his neck. 

 

“Fuck. Victor-” the only reply is a series of sharp breaths, hot in his ear as they move together. There's just enough space for him to grip Victor's cock, trapped and leaking between their bodies. He works his fingers over the length, shaky stuttering bursts matching the rhythm of their passion. 

 

Victor is beneath him mouthing wordlessly, head thrown back as he tumbles into his climax. The gasping hoarse call of his name on Victor's lips inches him ever closer to his own orgasm, but he can't push. Yuuri stills for a moment, letting Victor come down and back to him before making to pull away, not wanting to overwhelm him, but he's pulled back in and urged on by the flat of Victor's hands on his ass and clinging legs. 

 

“Fuck me. Yuuri- Fuck me.” Victor repeats it over and over, his chest heaving and face crumpling. Victor is urging Yuuri into the mind-blanking whiteness of his orgasm. 

 

Victor moaning and calling his name into the dim light of the bedroom is the trigger that pushes Yuuri to follow him over the edge. It's a shuddering fall into his climax, one that has his hips stuttering and muscles locking with the force of it before his arms fail him and he's being caught by Victor's soothing hands and voice once more. He let's himself be laid out on the mattress, Victor fussing with discarding the condom and swiping a rumpled shirt over their soiled stomachs, then he's back in Yuuri’s arms curling into the embrace and sighing as they drift from drowsy post coital haze into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was fun! ;)


	6. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He regains consciousness in a rush, awareness rushing back in a thump that has him reeling for a moment. He’s curled under covers that don’t smell like him head pillowed on a pair of thighs that are very nice.
> 
> “Good morning handsome, You’re real clingy when you’re waking up y’know?”

He regains consciousness in a rush, awareness rushing back in a thump that has him reeling for a moment. He’s curled under covers that don’t smell like him head pillowed on a pair of thighs that are  _ very  _ nice.

 

“Good morning handsome, You’re real clingy when you’re waking up y’know?”

 

_ Oh this is the best way to wake up. _

 

“For all the right reasons, darling.” He smiles up at the smaller man whose adorably sleep mussed and smiling down past his phone, “Been up long?”

 

“Ten minutes? I was going to the bathroom, but  _ someone _ can’t sleep without me already.” Phichit gives him a fond look, “It was a nice way to wake up though, so no complaints from me.”

 

“Mmh, yes. I like waking up with you as my pillow.” He gives Phichit’s thighs a squeeze where his arms are thrown around them. “Although I’m sure there are more  _ interesting _ ways to wake up a bed partner that occurred to you, no?”

 

“One or two things did pop up, yes.” Chris cocks a brow, but Phichit just socks him in the shoulder lightly, “Maybe after a couple of dates, bud.”

 

“Did you just call me bud?” Chris is laughing, letting Phichit’s long fingers run through his hair. They’d kissed last night, once due to Yuuri’s unique helping hand, and then later once the party had cleared out and there was relative privacy. 

 

They’d assisted Mari to bed, her grumbling about Yuuri in drunken tones at they passed Victor’s room and heard rather a lot more giggling than either of them had expected judging by the looks passed over Mari’s head as they dragged her to the spare room. They helped themselves to Yuuri’s bedroom, Phichit shrugging and settling under the covers still half clothed. 

 

“Doesn’t look like he’s using it tonight,” was the only comment Phichit made as he snuggled under the comforter with a happy smile. “Get your ass down here Giacometti!” Chris went. They shared the space of Yuuri’s bed tentatively, still clothed and huffing laughter when their legs connected trying to get comfortable. Sleep had come on the heels of chaste kisses and mumbled ‘goodnights’. 

 

And now here they are, Chris curled around Phichit and giving him morning kisses to his cheek. Phichit giggles, catching Chris drawing away and pecking his lips with a huge grin.  _ This guys is so dorky _ . 

 

“Yeah, bud, my old buderoo.” 

 

“Ridiculous.”

 

“Yeah but you like it!” They share a smile, it’s a warm thing that has Chris wanting to shield it and protect this delicate new  _ thing _ from the world. Last night had been a few tentative steps toward something, it was small and Chris was going to chase it as far as Phichit would let him.

 

“You’re such a dork.”

 

“Takes one to know one.”

 

“Did you really just-” Phichit is sticking his tongue out childishly, Chris is about to instigate the tickle fight to end all tickle fights, and Yuuri apparently is gatecrashing their little cocoon with his clothes spilling from his arms- clad only in his boxers and a shocked look.

 

“What the hell are you guys doing here?!?”

 

* * *

  

Objectively Yuuri knows slipping out from under Victor’s arm and gathering his clothes as quietly as possible might be seen as the act of a guilty conscience, but he’d awoken to the other man suffocatingly close and his anxiety had reared up in earnest.

 

Victor was beautiful in sleep, youth painting his relaxed features and catching Yuuri’s breath. They’d been silly and giggly last night, running wild under the influence of their giddy delight in each other, but here and now there’s nothing to stop Yuuri’s brain from tipping over into hyperdrive and taking him a million miles in the wrong direction. Which it promptly does.

 

It had been the stupidest lapse in judgement to sleep with his housemate, there was a certain internet love guru who’d said as much to him only yesterday, and yet he’d simply powered through any rationality, throwing caution to the winds. There were a hundred thoughts tumbling through his mind now, the most prevalent of which was,  _ ‘This is too much.’  _ He could save the intricate dissection of his messy thoughts until he was safely back in his bedroom.  _ Hiding _ his brain supplied insidious to the last, as he closes the door behind him.

 

He feels a glut of shame building as he shuffles the length of the hallway, sneaking away like a fucking idiot, like he should be ashamed of himself. And maybe he should? He’d done exactly the thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t, Victor would probably be overjoyed not to wake and find him in his bed. One nighters were Yuuri’s speciality and he knew how they went, but the concept of their having to exchange pleasantries on their way to the bathroom was something he’d not considered before fucking his housemate.

 

If you could call it fucking? Was it fucking when they’d been so enraptured with each other by the end?  _ Lovemaking _ , but he shies away from that too. It’s too early and he’s too fucking underdressed for this shit. 

 

His vague plan for the rest of the morning had been to faceplant into his mattress and refuse to get back up until he’d thought his way out of his current conundrum. Although it was looking like he’d be thinking himself into a corner rather than out, his breath was catching in his throat and his heartbeat was picking up speed in the old familiar pattern that meant he’d be rattling through his messenger bag sooner rather than later for his lorazepam. 

 

“ _ Yuuri! _ ” Apparently he’s having one of those days, because he’s just walked in on his best friend in bed with his housemates best friend. It does nothing to ease the iron bands that are constricting around his chest. 

 

“ _ Phichit? _ ” 

 

“Morning Yuuri!” Chris chirps.

 

“Phi-” 

 

He can’t get the name out around the whistling breath in his throat, dull buzzing in his ears as he drops his clothes. His pulse is racing against his throat. It feels like being in the eye of the storm, the rushing buzzing in his head and the vacuum in his chest that’s keeping him from regaining his composure. His vision is blurring even further than his near-sightedness normally warps his perception of the world around him. 

 

He’s aware of Phichit’s arms around him, some hushed words being aimed at Chris before the door is closed behind him and Phichit’s words come into focus finally, “Come on Yuuri, it’s not much. Just one breath for your bestie huh?” Gentle hands are rubbing soothingly at his back, “We got this Yuuri, you know the ropes. We can kick this in the ass with a single breath.”

 

It’s a hitching juddering sob of a breath that claws from his throat, the sound followed by another in quick succession.

 

“That’s the good shit right there. Perfect.”

 

It doesn’t feel perfect. It takes five minutes and a hundred murmured reassurances to pull Yuuri back into reality. Phichit has him run through grounding exercises, going a far as running his fingers over the doorframe, carpet, and his own face and describe the textures out loud. It works, they get through it together; by the time Chris is wandering back into the room with steaming mugs and an incredibly passable impression of a smile, Yuuri is on the bed beside Phichit who’s scrolling through his phone and chattering about a post he just found.

 

“Tea?” Yuuri knows the look on Chris’ face, he’s seen it dozens of times before- the re-assessing look. Adding and adjusting his perception of Yuuri to include ‘mentally weak’. 

 

_ And here comes the self-loathing… _

 

It’s not fair of him to lay his insecurities at Chris’ feet, the guy had been nothing but nice and Yuuri was feeling fragile after his panic. Yuuri was the weak one here, not Chris-

 

“I wasn’t sure how you took it so I left them all black…” It’s the first time Yuuri’s seen Chris discomfited, stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed.

 

“Yuuri likes his beverages like he likes his men-” Phichit grins beside him, grabbing a mug and passing it over.

 

“Strong?” Chris supplies, the quip has him relaxing in seconds, perching on the mattress and smiling easily. 

 

“Steamy?” Phichit says to the room, laughing when Yuuri huffs beside him. 

 

“Hot!”

 

“Scalding?” They’re just going to keep going, he knows it. Chris is laughing now too and there’s a twinkle in his eye as he aims the next comment at Phichit.

 

“Cool and dark?” Phichit shoves Chris playfully, there’s the beginnings of a smile playing at Yuuri’s lips. Their back and forth is helping to relieve the tension in his shoulders, the warm mug of tea warming his fingers and pushing the sticky panic to the back of his mind.

 

* * *

 

Chris is in the kitchen when Victor makes it downstairs, he’s bleary eyed and yawning into the back of a hand when he greets his best friend. “Morning!”

 

“Mmh, so it is.” Chris is watching the kettle, a weird tension in his shoulders.

 

“What’s up? You too hungover to function?” Victor himself is feeling light and breezy this morning, no sign of a hangover on the horizon and a bubbling happiness in his chest. Yes, waking up alone hadn’t been part of the plan, but Yuuri was probably in the bathroom that had been occupied on his way downstairs.

 

Last night had been… 

 

Perfect? Amazing? 

 

Victor can’t help the squirm in his chest, nor the tapping of his fingers on his lip as he grabs for a mug and settles it beside the three Chris has set up on the counter. He’d never had that much fun with a bed partner, never felt so utterly free to be as silly as they had been with each other. There’s a skip in his step when he makes his way to hip check Chris, who’s still frowning slightly. “Hey! Someone’s grumpy this morning!”

 

“Not grumpy- worried.” Chris sighs heavily.

 

“Can I ask what’s got you so upset?” Victor isn’t great with  _ feelings _ , he’s studiously and completely ignored most of his own for years, after all. Chris is far better at these things, the best he can do is let his friend vent a little and hope it helps.

 

“Have you spoken to Yuuri this morning?” Chris is watching him closely, when he asks, gauging his response.

 

“No. He was in the bathroom when I woke up. Then I came straight here.” There’s something closed in his expression that has Victor’s fingers tapping the counter uneasily.

 

“Okay.” His gaze shifts back to the kettle, “And you two… y’know. Last night?”

 

“Yes?” The light happy feeling was fading, the frown of Chris’ brow tramping it down into the pit of apprehension that was opening in Victor’s stomach. There’s a heavy twist to Chris’ lips, the frown deepens. There’s a sudden surge of nausea rising in Victor’s throat. “What’s-”

 

“Did you talk to him last night? Before you slept together?”

 

“I- didn’t. Chris, where’s Yuuri?” Worry is colouring his words now, bubbling up alongside the nausea.

 

“He’s with Phichit, he’s… freaking out? I don’t fucking know. I think he’s having a panic attack- No Vitya.” He’d been about to throw himself up the stairs and to Yuuri, but Chris stops him with a hand on his arm, “Whatever is freaking him out, he probably doesn’t want an audience for it. Just let him get his shit together before you go running in Romeo.”

 

That makes sense, he knows it does logically. It doesn’t stop the want to help, nor the tickling worry that Victor is to blame for this. He wants to help, to soothe Yuuri the way Yuuri had soothed him during the heavier moments of their lovemaking last night. Chris’ grip is firm though. 

 

“Did he say anything?”

 

“He didn’t really have a chance to. He just kinda blasted into his bedroom then started freaking out.” Chris runs a hand over his face distractedly before he pulls the now boiling kettle from the hob, “Phichit suggested tea might help, and here I am.”

 

Victor is about to argue the virtues of his case for being the one to deliver tea to Yuuri when Mari shuffles into the kitchen. 

 

“Yo. Where’s Yuuri?” she’s helping herself to a glass of water, yawning before she downs the thing in one. There’s a look passed between he and Chris before Mari continues, grimacing when she fires at Victor, “What? Did you tire him out too much last night?”

 

“Okay, I’m leaving you two to this.” and just like that Victor is left to explain that no he didn’t exhaust Mari’s little brother last night, he was just having a panic attack in his bedroom. No big deal right? He outlines the scenario in the most diplomatic way possible, Mari’s face impassive as he explains what he knows, skirting the fact that they’d slept together carefully. 

 

“Well this is a shit show.” Mari mutters once Victor has run out of words, “Yuuri’s not great at this stuff.”

 

“At what stuff?” 

 

“People.” She’s like a sphynx for all of the expression she’s showing, “He’s anxious and too self-contained.”

 

There’s something to that statement the rings utterly true, the Yuuri Victor has been living with for the last two weeks had been distant most of the time. The Yuuri he’d seen last night had been delightful and funny, flirty and sexy and sweet. Somewhere between the two sides of Yuuri was the man himself, hemmed in by anxiety and reticence.

 

Mari sighs heavily, “He’s going to need space. It’s usually a few days before he’s back to himself again after an attack. I don’t know how much of this is due to whatever the hell you guys did last night, but just let him sit on it. He’ll probably think himself into a few corners, but he’ll always come out alright in the end.”

 

Victor isn’t sure why Mari is telling him this, why she’s helping him. It’s glaringly obvious to him that this is all his fault, he’d been too pushy, too stupid, he’d pushed through some barrier and not noticed it. He’d upset Yuuri.

 

He’d upset Yuuri.

 

“Just don’t push, that’s the worst thing you could do.”

 

He couldn’t possibly push Yuuri. He can’t speak to Yuuri. He can’t risk upsetting him again. His fingers drum the counter in a staccato beat.

 

“Victor?” 

 

“Yeah? No- I get it. I’ll let him have some space.” The smile he flashes Mari is all teeth and painfully wide. She doesn’t notice, patting him on the arm and smiling in return.

 

“Good. Yuuri’s an idiot, but he’s a kind hearted one.”

 

He heart sinks along with his stomach at the implication. Victor nods, but can’t keep the smile on his face once Mari turns away.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops?? 
> 
> All aboard the mutual pining train?
> 
> Hope you're all enjoying this trashfire! Comments and Kudos give us a good clue if you like us or not!!
> 
> Until next time xo's


	7. Evasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last two weeks had been hard on Yuuri, it didn’t take being his best friend to see that- he’d been more withdrawn than Phichit had ever seen him, swinging between skittish and on edge.

 

**Anonymous asked:**

 

Hi uncle Art, I'm in a bit of a corner right now and was wondering if you could offer a little advice? 

 

I'm 26m and I finally came out to my mom recently, she was kinda the last person on the list and it went really really well, she was supportive and said it wouldn't change anything in our relationship, a lot of tears and hugging were experienced by all and that was that. 

 

But now, now she's trying to set me up on dates with her friends sons (miles away from my types) and she's trying to get me to watch Will and Grace reruns. I mean I appreciate the gesture or whatever, but I'd rather go to a baseball game with her like we used to. 

 

How do I bring our relationship back to where it was? It feels like now she knows my gender preferences she's catering our interactions to fill a void that never existed??? Thanks for reading :) 

 

_ Imgaynotghey _

 

> **ask-uncle-art replied:**
> 
>  
> 
> _ Hi Gay!  _
> 
>  
> 
> _ There's a lot to get into in this one, first things first congrats on coming out, it takes a lot to put yourself out there like that, and I'm super proud of you for taking that risk.  _
> 
>  
> 
> _ Now for the big stuff. You came out and that was big, but don't forget the fact that even with the support and love your mother offers it’s still a big thing for her to wrap her head around. It's frustrating when you have to tailor yourself to others expectations, especially after coming out you're still having to conform to her idea of homosexuality.  _
> 
>  
> 
> _ Communication is always the key though, tell her honestly that although her perception of you has been changed it doesn't make you different than the man you were before, be honest with her and be gentle. There's a lot of emotions tied up in these subjects and letting them rule would be a bad idea.  _
> 
>  
> 
> _ I hope this helps xoxo  _
> 
> _ Uncle Art _

 

Phichit scans the reply before he publishes, checking the spelling, ensuring he’s covered all the bases. There are a million things he could be doing right now, but he’s in need of some good old fashioned decompression. Thank the deities for his super secret hobby.

 

Work has been tense. It’s been two weeks since the houseparty and Yuuri still isn’t his usual self. He's been waspish on occasion and introverted for the most part, their whole office was counting the days, hoping for Yuuri to get back to normal. Well, normal for Yuuri. 

 

They'd talked about it, of course. That morning once Chris had retreated back downstairs and Yuuri had relaxed minutely against him, Yuuri had vaguely outlined what had happened in the most sparse terms possible. Phichit did what he always did in the shadow of Yuuri’s panic attacks- he listened without comment, letting Yuuri talk himself out.

 

They’d done that dozens of times before, huddled together on the couch in their tiny student digs. Sometimes it would be Yuuri, anxious and scared by the enormity of autonomy and responsibility his college career afforded. Sometimes it was Phichit, bad dates and bad lecturers combining and multiplying until they leaked from him in tears. Phichit was calm, kind, and non-judgemental because that’s what they were for each other.

 

The last two weeks had been hard on Yuuri, it didn’t take being his best friend to see that- he’d been more withdrawn than Phichit had ever seen him, swinging between skittish and on edge. They didn’t mention Victor, they didn’t mention the party after the following Monday when Leo had been rhapsodising about how much fun he’d had and Yuuri had been unresponsive. 

 

If Yuuri didn’t come back to himself soon Phichit might be pushed to drastic measures. Maybe a night out, maybe a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. Time would tell...

 

An alert on his phone pulled him out of his musings, another anonymous ask from a familiar name:

 

**_Anonymous asked:_ **

 

_ I did the thing you told me I shouldn’t. _

 

_ I see what you meant about the last banana. _

 

_ I’m a fucking mess. _

 

_ -Confused About Love _

 

Phichit barely refrains from rolling his eyes at the words. As if he’s having to deal with the same shit twice over! Although… There might be some merit in helping the poor guy out? It would at least give him insight into how Yuuri might be doing. He published Confused About Love’s ask quickly

  
  


I’m a fucking mess.

 

-Confused About Love

 

> **_Ask-uncle-art replied:_ **
> 
>  
> 
> _ >:|  _
> 
>  
> 
> _ Care to expound upon that? We can dm if you want.  _
> 
>  

It takes less than a minute for his phone to ping him again, lighting up with a dm from what is obviously a newly generated sideblog whose username is a jumble of meaningless numbers.

 

**7478493489:** Hi. Sorry abt this. Just melting down rn.

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** nbd my guy. 

Sounds like you need to talk?

 

**7478493489:** yea.

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** Care to fill me in?

 

**7478493489:** uh. Got a bit drunk and did the thing you told me not to? 

I guess now i kno he’s into dudes tho so there’s that?

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** You dont sound happy about it?

 

**7478493489:** yea. I freaked out after and he’s been invisible for days. 

I haven’t seen him anyway

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** Have you spoken to him about it at all?

 

**7478493489:** i didn’t get the chance. 

Once I’d calmed down he was already out of the house and I think he’s been avoiding me.

I dunno what to do. 

He’s not responding to my txts

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** Well. I mean- it sounds like he is either regretting it, or thinks you do? 

So maybe you could txt him asking to talk? 

These things are better done face to face.

 

**7478493489:** What do I say????

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** What do you feel? 

Best thing is to be honest. Like you can’t uncrack an egg, dude. 

The ship of not fucking your housemate already sailed.

All you can do now is damage control.

 

**7478493489:** fucking tell me about it. 

He said as much himself before he gave me the bj of a lifetime

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** He did???

 

**7478493489:** ‘You can’t unsuck your housemates cock.”

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** Holy fuxking shit

That’s fucking hilarious

I mean all due respect to your struggle, but the dude sounds hun!

*fun

 

**7478493489:** Oh man, tell me about it. 

Best sex ever too fml

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** Talk to him, then ask him to fuck your life!

Or fuck you for life, whatev

 

**7478493489:** aye aye capn

 

**_Ask-uncle-art:_ ** Good boy! :’) and hmu if you need to talk more!

 

The exchange takes less than five minutes, but Phichit comes out of it feeling refreshed and a little proud of the ease of the resolution. He’s about to kill his phone and maybe get a well deserved beer to accompany him in the shower when it pings him again, this time with eggplant emojis and a picture of Chris’ face.

 

They’d been texting on and off for the duration. Chris being ever effervescent and confusingly obsessed with emojis, Phichit was happy. The man was flirty and silly in a way that rebounded off his own straight-faced humour well. He’d been enjoying himself immensely, especially after their first ‘real’ date (the party didn’t count, even if they’d shared a bed). They’d met for a late lunch, conversation flowing freely over a couple of glasses of wine before they walked a nearby park hand in hand. 

 

It had been delightfully normal in every respect apart from the fact they never seemed to run out of things to say to each other. Phichit wasn’t one for jumping the gun (he’d leave that to Yuuri and his strong-headedness), but he could see himself very easily falling into a relationship with Chris with no regrets. Especially after the incredibly hot make out session they’d had on his apartment steps… Yep it would be easy to keep this one for himself, if Chris allowed it, naturally. 

 

He swipes the screen, answering with a chirpy ‘What’s up budaroo?’, settling in for the duration with the beer he fetches from the fridge and laughing at Chris’ exasperated retort.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri had half expected a lecture when he sent his ask. Anonymity, insofar as his ‘Confused in Love’ persona allowed, he was wallowing in dejection and might have been attempting to bait the so-called romance guru. He hadn’t expected the invite to dm, nor the ease with which he’d spoken to the other guy. 

 

It had been a rough couple of weeks to say the least.

 

Victor had basically gone dark, avoiding him at all costs and backing out of rooms with hundred watt smiles whenever Yuuri had caught the other man. He knew Victor was avoiding him, he just didn’t know why. 

 

After Phichit had calmed him down that morning, he’d been all set to face the music, jazz hands and all if they’d been necessary. By the time he’d showered and pulled his clothes on, he’d found an empty house for all but his sister, who had been smoking on the porch and ribbing him about his hot action the night before. She’d explained that Phichit had gone for a breakfast run for them with Chris and Victor in tow, and Yuuri had relaxed minutely. Phichit had returned with breakfast, but the other men were nowhere in sight.

 

“I seriously have no idea, man.” Was all Phichit had to add about the missing members of the group.

 

And so it had gone.

 

Victor hadn’t returned that night, wasn’t there in the morning, and hadn’t replied to Yuuri’s text informing him they’d need milk if he could pick some up on his way back. He hadn’t responded when Yuuri had asked if Makka needed walking that night when he returned to an empty house. Yuuri walked her anyway.

 

Victor had turned up the next morning in the kitchen when Yuuri was running late for work, not batting an eye at panicked look and muffled ‘hi’ hidden behind his hand. Victor helped himself to coffee with a blinding smile and disappeared just as quickly, the slapping of his feet on the stairs a painful echo of the steps he’d taken with Yuuri on Saturday night.

 

All in all it only gave Yuuri more time to think himself into holes, burying himself in reprimands and what-ifs. 

 

What if he’d stayed put and waited for Victor to wake up? Would Victor have pushed him out of bed and out of his life? Or would they have gone another couple of rounds and come out of the bedroom hand in hand?

 

What if Victor had only been looking for a one night thing, but didn’t have the guts to explain this to Yuuri? He’d been too caught up in the other man, in the sheer passion that had built between them under the covers, he’d probably scared him off.

 

What if Victor is just not interested? He’d had his taste of what Yuuri had to offer and found him lacking? 

 

What if the next eleven months of the contract were spent in quiet evasion on both their parts? Avoidance and fear colouring Yuuri’s side, god only knew what on Victor’s.

 

And so he found himself reaching for his phone, desperate for distraction from the dizzying spin of his thought process. The tumblr app just happened to be the first thing he’d clicked, sparking the sudden need to confess, to be reprimanded by someone who wasn’t himself, and he’d shot another anon to a perfect stranger. Uncle Art had been gracious as ever, and had given him some surprisingly solid and well reasoned advice.

 

Now all he had to do was to text Victor, he supposed.

 

He drops another text into the void that is their communication these days, surprised when it immediately changes to ‘read’. He waits impatiently for Victor to start typing, but the screen stays as it is, little pixels mocking him as he watches.

 

Okay then. 

 

Victor knows he can seen the message status. He knows Yuuri will know he’s read the thing. There’s one last play then.

 

He’s going to call.

 

* * *

  
  


When Victor’s phone buzzed, he was buzzed. He’d built up a rather nice head of steam under the power of several vodkas in a dive bar with a group of post-grad students who decided he looked too pretty to be drinking alone, especially with  _ that look _ . Victor had to agree, as he looked at the notification blearily, he was too pretty to be this sad.

 

It was from Yuuri.

 

He wanted to talk.

 

“Oh my god, so now he wants to talk?”

 

“The nerve of it-”

 

“Can you believe the balls on the dude?” 

 

The girls had surrounded him on opening the message, his personal misery cheerleaders whom he’d informed in depth of his current predicament. 

 

“Oh  _ hell naw _ !” Bee yelled at the phone, she was several drinks lighter than Victor, but had taken the news of Yuuri’s non-affection  _ very _ hard. They were best friends now, or so she’d informed him before diving into the tale of her ex-boyfriend and his wandering charms. They’d nicknamed him ‘detachable donger dude’ in a moment of camaraderie borne of mutual pain and shots. 

 

“Well he did say he hadn’t fucked her, so I asked if she’d fucked herself with his dick!” There were roars of approval, Victor joining in and laughing wildly. The girls had then gone into a rather illuminating discussion about animals with detachable private parts which had scarred Victor for life and had the vodka burning his throat.

 

“You’re not going to answer that are you?” One of the girls, Maj? Maybe? Was looking at the screen like it just bit her firstborn.

 

“-he doesn’t deserve you baby-”

 

“We should detach  _ his _ donger!” Bee Yelled.

 

“No I should probably-” 

 

The phone in his hands flickers into life once more, Yuuri’s name plastered across the surface. Call it bad decision number 342,576 when he accepts the call without a second thought, noisy bar dulling his hearing enough that he can hear Yuuri only if he concentrates.

 

“Victor?” Yuuri sounds surprised he’d picked up.

 

“Yuuri! Hi, whats up?”

 

“Victor where the hell are you? I can barely hear-”

 

“I’m in a bar! Its great you should come!” What the hell is he even saying? Yuuri being here would be a bad idea, he’s already proven how badly he and alcohol mix with Yuuri once. A repeat of the thing would be no good thing.

 

“No- I’m fine thanks.” Yuuri sounds annoyed, huh.

 

“Ah well, it’s a super fun time, shame you’re missing out!”

 

“Is that Yuuro?” Bee slurs beside him. He makes a shushing noise that is surely too loud. “Yuuro! Yuuro! Victors coming home with us!”

 

“Yes!” Tina agrees loudly, “We like Viki, we’re keeping him-”

 

“Shut up guys!” Victor begs, but his words are buried under the tide of noise from Tina and Bee easily, the slurring not helping anything. He can almost hear Yuuri saying  _ something _ over the noise of the bar, but the girls are building up steam around him. Yuuri hangs up before he can fight his way out of the rabble of women and to a quieter spot. “Shit.”

 

He collapses disconsolately back into the seat of the booth they’d claimed earlier in the night, scrubbing at his face. He’s not sure, but Yuuri hadn’t sounded mad, or accusing. He’d sounded worried and a bit pissed at the noise if anything. 

 

He’d expected Yuuri to give him up by now, pity fuck aside, the guy was ever tenacious when it came to keeping Victor in line. He’d texted every day since that fateful Sunday, but Victor couldn’t bring himself to reply, studiously dismissing the notifications and never opening iMessage. Victor couldn’t face him though. The pain of knowing Yuuri had only slept with him, gone along with his terribly bad idea because he’d pitied him was enough to make him sink into his more aggressively self-loathing filled thoughts easily. 

 

The image of Mari’s face, so difficult to read when she’d said it,  _ “Yuuri’s an idiot, but he’s a kind hearted one.” _

 

He’d damned himself a hundred times for not seeing it himself, how kind Yuuri was- accepting Makkachin when she’d slipped his mind during the viewing. Accepting Victor’s eccentricities with barely a batting of his eye, to know that kindness extended to such a point hurt Victor deep in his heart, to know Yuuri had seen a lonely man with a crush and given him one night to get over it. 

 

Victor was an idiot, a fool. 

 

“Victor? Hey you look bummed!” Maj frowns at him across the table.

 

“More vodka!” Bee grins, knocking over empty shot glasses in her attempt to refill them.

 

“No- I think I’m done for the night.”

 

“Are you okay?” Maj is scrutinising him closely, clearly more sober than her friends, “You still bummed about Yuuro?”

 

“Yuuri.” Victor corrects, frowning. “And yes, I am. I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Oh my god I know!!! You should ask Uncle Art! That guy knows his shit.” Tina pipes up from beside him, wrestling the vodka from Bee and pouring a round. 

 

“I should what now?”

 

“He’s this blogger, you can ask him for relationship advice anonymously and he’ll answer you. He’s great.” Tina grabs for his phone, still unlocked in his hand and downloads an unfamiliar app. “Here. We’ll set you up an account and you can ask what my guy thinks. He’s awesome I promise.”

 

Many hours later, Victor wakes up to his phone flashing a notification that ask-uncle-art had answered an ask. Victor only minimises the notification, burying  his face back into Makka’s fur.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... Sorry? *hides*


	8. The Unnoticed Senpai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d taken a risk and reached out to Victor, trying to bridge whatever gap had been put between them, but the barrage of noise had put paid to that notion. Hearing the women yelling about their intention to have Victor had left a sour taste in his mouth, no matter the fact that the man had in fact returned that night. Victor had been blasé on the call, even suggesting Yuuri join him in the rowdy bar. He’d tried to yell over the babble of the bar, but given up once Victor’s companions had chimed in.

 

“I tried talking to him.” The words fall from his mouth before he really knows he's going to say them. Phichit just arches an eyebrow, adjusting his grip on the food they're carting back to the office between them. 

 

“Victor?” There's a hesitance even at the mention of the name. 

 

“Yeah, I called him.”

 

“Dare I ask?” Phichit is side-eyeing him like he could combust any second, bursting with curiosity. He knows that he’s been less than approachable the last few weeks, anxiety hangovers and mulling over Victor had combined into a palpable aura of gloom.

 

“It didn’t go well.”  _ Understatement of the century. _ Yuuri can’t help the downward turn of his features. “I mean I called, he answered. He was in a bar with some girls. He sounded hammered, and the girls were yelling around him that he was going home with them that night.”

 

“They what?”

 

“Oh yeah. It was a hoot.” He’s being flippant, he knows, but being honest would hurt too much.

 

He’d taken a risk and reached out to Victor, trying to bridge whatever gap had been put between them, but the barrage of noise had put paid to that notion. Hearing the women yelling about their intention to have Victor had left a sour taste in his mouth, no matter the fact that the man had in fact returned that night. Victor had been blasé on the call, even suggesting Yuuri join him in the rowdy bar. He’d tried to yell over the babble of the bar, but given up once Victor’s companions had chimed in.

 

“He went home with them?” Phichit looks almost murderous, the scowl on his face looking completely out of place.

 

“Not as far as I know, I heard him stumble in at two am.” Another annoyance, he’d only just dropped off after much fretting, “I’m not sure what I expected-”

 

“To be treated like a person with feelings, maybe?”

 

“Well that- yes.” It shouldn’t have been too much to ask really, but the phone call had been something like a nail in the coffin of their communication. It had been two days since, and Yuuri got the rising urge to run or rail at the other man each time they fleetingly met.

 

“What’re you going to do?”

 

“Resign myself to another eleven months of avoidance and move on?” He’s shrugging, but there’s a thumping in his chest that belies the truth of the statement. He’s more than likely to suffer the man’s company in dead aired silence than to run. 

 

“You’re always welcome at my place if you need to get away for a bit?”   
  
“Run away from my own home less than a month after buying it?” Even the words stick in his throat as he chokes them out. The thought of running and hiding making his words fly from his mouth vehemently. “I’m not going anywhere, if anyone’s got anything to be embarrassed about it’s  _ him _ .”

 

“I’m not suggesting you  _ hide _ , I’m just offering you somewhere you won’t be tense twenty-four seven.” Phichit says gently, and Yuuri feels the wind knocked out of his sails.

 

“”I know, I just feel…” Yuuri doesn’t know what he feels in the moment, he’s frustrated and angry and sad all at once.

 

“Conflicted?”

 

“A bit yeah.”

 

“Well the offer is always there if you need it. What’re best best friends for?” Phichit grins easily, pulling a chuckle from Yuuri in fondness, “Although you’ll have to call ahead just in case I’m entertaining my boyfriend.”

 

“Oh, you have a boyfriend?” Yuuri grins at the lack of subtlety, Phichit has been bubbling over with giddy energy for the last few days, name-dropping Chris into conversations with Guang Hong at every opportunity. “I wasn’t aware, what was his name again?”

 

“Well, his name is Chris, he’s Swiss and he has an ass-”

 

“Yes- dude. I was there for that bit!” Yuuri’s laughing now, the bright smile on his best friends face lifting his spirits. If anyone deserved to have bragging rights on having an awesome boyfriend, it was Phichit. He’d had a string of failed relationships during their college careers that Yuuri was intimately familiar with, and was a diehard romantic at heart.

 

Yuuri listened to Phichit’s tales of dates with Chris in the park, and phone calls that always seemed to run long. Phichit was practically glowing with the telling, Yuuri felt a guilty pang at the fact he’d been so far up his own ass he’d missed out on all of his news, but shook it off. Phichit was someone who understood Yuuri to the core, knew the inner workings and mindsets, and would never hold it against him for the way his anxiety caused him to burrow into his own skin.

 

They entered the office in a chattering of laughter and wondering how many dates was too few to put out, Yuuri only having to tramp down a tiny pinch of jealousy at the ease with which Phichit seemed to navigating the muddy waters of new relationships.

 

* * *

  
  


Drunken decision making being what it was, it takes Victor several days to remember that he had even set up a tumblr account, let alone anon’d a relatively well known relationship advice blog. It’s actually Yurio who reminds him, showing him something he could give less of a shit about on his own tumblr dashboard and springing Victor’s memory like a pinball crashing into the barriers of the machine and into the depths of his drunken stupidity. 

 

They’re sat in a pet friendly cafe sipping coffees, weekly catch up now a firm routine since he’d moved out of their grandfather's place. Yurio had made some attempt at small talk, asking if Victor was packed for his trip and organising shuttling back and forth to the airport. Yurio had enquired about Makka’s care for the duration of his absence- offering to pick her up when he and Otabek came to drive him to the airport. Victor had hummed in response, curling his fingers in Makka’s fur and wishing he could just have asked Yuuri, but Yuuri had been studiously ignoring his existence for a week… 

 

He had the most fleeting of ideas that he might have done something when he was drunk? He’d managed to thoroughly bury the memories of that particular session under the weight of the hangover that followed it. Yuuri had been actively avoiding him ever since that night, so he’d had some idea he’d made an idiot of himself, but no sure memories of the actual event. 

 

He does now though. He remembers the clutching fingers of vodka that had loosened his tongue and his sensibilities, not only around the girls who’d kept him company, but on the phone to Yuuri too. Yuuri had wanted to  _ talk _ and he’d fucked it up, he’d let the girls talk him into some ridiculous tumbling nonsense, he’d crawled home and passed out on his bed without even seeing Yuuri. No wonder the other man had been avoiding him like the plague.

 

Shaking himself from the stupor that followed the realisation that not only had he spoken to Yuuri when drunk, but sent his frustrations to some unknown entity, Victor attempted to pay strict attention to the cat video Yurio had gleefully shoved into his face. In Victor’s defence the phone was millimeters from his eyes, Yurio whooping out laughter at the antics of the cat on screen, and frowning deeply when Victor didn’t mirror his enthusiasm.

 

“What’s crawled up your ass?”

 

“Uh. Nothing.”  _ King of evasion. Smooth moves Nikiforov. _

 

“Yeah Right! You’ve been off for weeks, it doesn’t take a genius to know that.” Yurio is looking at him closely, “Not that I actually care, but you’re less annoying than you were before that house party. What happened? Did you fuck the landlord already?”   
  


Victor chokes on the mouthful of latte he’d tried to hide behind.

 

“ _ You did! _ ” He hisses, “Jesus Christ Victor, I knew you were fucking mooning over him at the party but that’s… What the fuck were you thinking?”

 

“I fucked up.”

 

“You’re fucking right you fucked up.” Yurio throws his hands up in frustration. He’s always been a volatile kid, but there something terrifying about the shade of red his sixteen year old cousin has achieved. “I don’t wanna fucking hear about it. I’m only going to say this, and then we never speak of it again.” Victor nods. He’s taking advice from a kid, he must be really lost. “You need to fix it asap. I don’t want you and that fucking mountain you call a pet crawling back to Gramps and begging a room again. He’s too old for this shit.”

 

_ He’s right _ . 

 

Victor has nowhere else to go. He has to fix it, not only for his own sake, but to ensure he’s not burdening his family. He’ll have to  _ do _ something...

 

Shit.

 

* * *

 

Victor makes his way home in a daze, still not quite sure how the hell he’s going to approach Yuuri. Would Yuuri even be willing to be in the same room as him right now? It would probably be easier to just find a new place, the internet was a wonderful resource after all…

 

He wanders behind Makka, who’s busying herself scenting trees and now refusing to move. He finally remembers to pull up the tumblr app, dash loading with only one blogs posts.

 

**_Anonymous asked:_ **

 

_ Okay this is fucked but like, my ex just called and told me he has chlamydia. I mean I feel fine but I read that it doesn't have symptoms or smt so like I'm scared.  _

 

_ Stdscarestace _

 

> **ask-uncle-art replied:**
> 
>  
> 
> Okay 
> 
>  
> 
>   1. Get your butt to planned parenthood ASAP and get tested. 
>   2. Ensure you inform all your partners that followed the ex what's happening. 
>   3. Get your results and treat as necessary. 
>   4. Block that asshat. 
>   5. And this is super important. _Wear. A. Fucking. Condom. Every. Goddamn. Time._
> 

> 
>  
> 
> Uncle Art

 

_ Okay, so that was unexpected. _

 

The advice however was exactly what someone in that situation needed. He scrolled further, discovering that apparently he only followed the one blog. It was just a case of working out which one was  _ his _ , it wasn’t like he had any solid memory of sending the thing. His eye catches on a few interesting asks while he peruses the blog, the relationship advice doesn’t seem to be simply romantic entanglements, but covers familial differences and friendships too. The guy seems empathetic to most asks, sometimes a little sarcastic in his tone, but generally just a dude helping people. Victor feels warmed at the concept.

 

Then he see’s it.

 

**_Anonymous asked:_ **

 

_ Okay but what the fuck do you do when the hottest fuck you’ve ever had dick you down gives you the cold shoulder? _

 

_ Pass the fucking vodka! Weeeeeeeee _

 

_ -TheUnnoticedSenpai _

 

> **Ask-uncle-art replied:**
> 
>  
> 
> Unnoticed Senpai- 
> 
>  
> 
> Vodka probably shouldn’t be the first port of call for this one. First thing should be conversation, always. Communication is the key to a healthy relationship no matter if it’s friends or lovers. Tell them how you feel, ask them how they feel. If there’s no middle ground between those two points then give it up as a bad job and move the hell on.
> 
>  
> 
> Then you can grab the vodka on your way out to a responsible night on the town with your favorite friend to have a dance with (or if you’re my best friend, destroying my soul by way of too many rounds of Mario Kart on the WiiU and making me cry).
> 
>  
> 
> Drinking away your problems might seem like a good idea, but I promise I’ve seen enough drunk mistakes in my young life to swear you off drinking forever! 
> 
>  
> 
> Look after yourself first, then think about the other half of this conundrum.
> 
>  
> 
> Communication might just be the key to getting Noticed, Senpai!
> 
> Uncle Art.
> 
>  

_ Too little, too late _ . 

 

Not necessarily though, if he could just get Yuuri in the same room with him then he could… but could he? Yuuri had been the picture of evasion since the night he’d sent the ask. Was there any chance of getting Yuuri to hear him out? To get his side of the story across? 

 

Too many drinks, made friends with other drunks, incidental overshare and banter spreading into miscommunication. That was all well and good, but then what? How would he explain the rest?

 

_ I’m sorry I’m such a pathetic mess that you felt you had to throw me a pity fuck to get me off your nuts. _

 

_ I’m sorry that I didn’t understand that you’re just too nice to ever say no, I get it now though. Mari filled me in. _

 

_ I’m sorry I caused your panic attack. _

 

All the ‘I’m sorry’s’ in the world couldn’t take back what he’d done though, couldn’t put off the ache he felt at the thought that Yuuri had thought the best resolution to unrequited attention was to give in to it. That he’d put both himself and Yuuri into a situation where they were both hurting. He should have stopped it, he should have been rational enough to parse his feelings away from his passion and  _ thought _ before he acted. 

 

Yurio was right, he’d fucked up.

 

Makka joined him, nudging his calves heavily to get him moving again. He made his way to the house with leaden steps, as he had so often over the last three weeks. There’s a pit of dread in his stomach when he reaches the front door, chilly to his touch as he opens it. 

 

He could do this, he could at least apologise. He stepped into the entryway, shuffling his feet on the welcome mat and removing his shoes quickly. He heard Makka’s heavy breathing fading away as she disappeared into the house, obviously searching Yuuri out. The muffled laughter confirmed that she’d found him quickly, before Victor had even managed to remove his coat. Once he’d divested his outerwear, he followed the happy sounds.

 

“Uh. Hi?” 

 

The way Yuuri’s head shoots up, features darkening when he spots Victor… Perhaps it won’t be that easy?

 


	9. That Poor Unicorn...

 

“Uh. Hi?”

 

He’s stood in the doorway, hovering uncomfortably at the sight of Makka happily burrowing under the blanket Yuuri has thrown over his lap to keep the lingering chill off. Yuuri was clearly in the middle of an online game, headset skewed on his head from the dogs attack and controller dangling from one hand as he frowns at Victor momentarily, returning to his game and addressing whoever was on the other end.

 

“Phichit- Yeah. Yeah I’m going now.” He’s toggling the setting of the game, quitting out of the session and not looking at Victor, until he mutters a final, “I know, I heard you the first time idiot. Talk to you later.”

 

The distance between them seems suddenly like miles when Yuuri turns to him, features schooled into a neutral expression. “Hi? You haven’t spoken to me for weeks, Victor. I don’t think ‘hi’ covers it.”

 

“Uh-” 

 

“In fact, I think we’re past the point of pleasantries wouldn’t you agree? You mentioned something similar right before we fucked-” Yuuri is up and off the sofa, gliding into Victor’s space. “So we can dispense with whatever platitudes you were  _ going _ to offer me, and skip to the end.”

 

It’s the heated tone, more than the words that get Victor’s hackles raising. He knew better than anyone that he fucking sucked at communicating, but having Yuuri simply disregard him so completely- “So I don’t even get to say anything? That’s hardly fair-”

 

“I don’t see anything fair about having to fucking tiptoe around my own home, but here we are.”

 

“Well, I’m  _ sorry _ if I  _ inconvenienced _ you-” Victor started, taking a step toward him, hands balling into fists. He takes a steadying breath, trying to reign his temper. 

 

“Stop being facetious.” His arms are crossed tightly across his chest, worn jumper loose over his frame and swamping Yuuri’s body like armour. He looks so small that Victor wants to reach out, to bridge the gap in their words and soothe him. “And no matter your  _ intentions _ , inconvenience doesn’t quite cover having to hear your girlfriends plans for you-”

 

“They weren’t my girlfriends-”

 

“It’s really not my business, is it?” Yuuri says sharply, meeting his eye again in a flash of anger. It has his temper rising, pushing to the fore again.

 

“Not. My. Girlfriends.” He grits out. Yuuri’s being completely unreasonable. “None of them were desperate enough to throw me a pity fuck-”

 

“A pity fuck? That’s what you think that was?” Yuuri whispers, his face falls at the words before twisting in distaste. There’s disbelief in his tone, incredulous words catching something in Victor’s chest and pulling. His heart is thudding, if Yuuri hadn’t been pitying him, what  _ had _ it been? 

 

Yuuri laughs, it rings false, the humor non-existent. “A pity fuck?! I don’t know who should be more insulted by that: Me or You.”  He shakes his head at Victor, looking puzzled for a split-second. “I may have anxiety issues and shit but never in my life have I had such low self worth as to think someone gave me a pity fuck-”

 

“Well what the hell  _ else _ could it have been?” Yuuri’s eyes flash dangerously, Victor hadn’t meant the words to be a question but Yuuri was distractingly close now, inches between them giving way to his advance. The air is heavy, thick with whatever tension has Yuuri’s dark eyes glittering in the low light. His worn sweater is falling from one shoulder, the angling of his face pushing him further into Victor’s personal space. “You weren't-  _ aren't  _ a pity fuck Victor. I don't know why or how you got that idea, but I-” 

 

“You- you left, and then Mari said…” Victor isn’t sure what to think, how to process the any of this. 

 

“You took the word of my sister over  _ me _ ?” Yuuri looks furious. His cheeks are pink and his jaw set.

 

“Well, it’s not like I was given a chance to talk to  _ you _ -” 

 

“I was having a fucking panic attack, Victor!”

 

“Which was brought on by  _ me _ , so therefore you  _ clearly _ didn’t-”

 

“Who said it was brought on by you?” Victor opens his mouth to reply, Yuuri cuts him off before he can retort. “I have an anxiety disorder, Victor. My fucking brain just goes into hyperdrive and pushes me into a place where everything I’m doing or have done is a hundred thousand times worse than it could possibly be in reality.” Yuuri sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair, “I just... I freaked out. It’s so easy to just throw yourself into something, but it always catches up to you.”

 

“I wanted- I tried to come to you.” Victor’s throat is working around the words, Yuuri stares at him for a moment before his shakes his head, another humourless laugh forced out.

 

“Yeah, that would have been a shitshow. Panic attacks aren’t exactly pretty.” Another barrier, another fake smile. Victor is getting fucking sick of seeing Yuuri pretend all the time. His next words burst from him far more vehemently than he expected.

 

“I don’t care about  _ pretty _ .” His heart has redoubled it’s attack on his ribs, thumping heavily in his chest. It’s as though the dam has finally buckled under the force of all the things he’s been thinking for the last three weeks, pouring from him in a rush. He reaches out, gripping Yuuri’s arms in fingers that are probably biting into his skin through the oversized sweater. “I don’t give a shit about how it looked or what you thought I’d think of you- I care about  _ you, _ Yuuri. I woke up alone and assumed you’d gone to the bathroom, and then Mari and Chris told me not to bother you, that you needed space- Mari said- she…”

 

“What did she say?” His eyes are flashing dangerously again. He’s still in Victor’s grip, he can feel the shift of Yuuri’s breathing against his fingers still fixed on Yuuri’s arms.

 

“That you’re a kind-hearted idiot and it just… I thought you’d just gone along with it because you were being nice?”

 

“Wow.” There’s that twisting of the mouth again, distaste and confusion painted all over Yuuri’s face.

 

“But you-”

 

“I ran. I know, Victor- but in the moment it… I was freaking out thinking that you wouldn’t want me there. I… We’re idiots. I’m an idiot.”

 

_ Communication is the key to a healthy relationship _

 

“Yuuri. I- I’m sorry.” He means it with every fibre of his being, his right hand trails the length of Yuuri’s arm to catch one of Yuuri’s hands. He puts it into the look that passes between them. “I should have spoken to you, I should have- I don’t know...”

 

“Yes. But so should I.” He gives Victor a half smile, looking tired. Victor nods when Yuuri offers him an exhausted apology. It doesn’t take much to reach out, the touch tentative when he slides his hand up from where he’d been holding Yuuri’s fingers in his grip and to pull him into a loose hug. There’s a second where Victor thinks he might have over stepped, Yuuri tensing before he relaxes into the embrace.

 

“I’m sorry.” The words are pressed into his chest, Yuuri curling into him and fastening his arms around his waist.

 

“I’m sorrier.” Yuuri’s hair is brushing his lips, he can smell his shampoo as the strands tickle at his chin.

 

“That’s not a word, Victor.” He can hear the smile in Yuuri’s voice, a chuckle following the statement quickly. He wants to wrap Yuuri up and pull every different laugh from him, all of the playfulness that he knows is hidden under the reticence and shy smiles. Instead he drops a kiss into Yuuri’s hair, gentle, careful- barely a press of lips.

 

“No, but it’s still true.” 

 

“What now?” Yuuri pulls back to look up at him, their faces are so close that it would take nothing to close the distance. This close Victor can see the darkened shadows under Yuuri’s eyes, worry still lingering in the crease between his eyebrows. He knows what Yuuri’s asking, he knows he should create boundaries and lines with words to define  _ this _ , but those deep eyes are so tired and Victor has never really been truly brave-

 

“Bed.”

 

“Is that such a good idea?” The frown in Yuuri’s features deepens.

 

“My bed, your bed, separate beds. I don’t care but you look exhausted.” Yuuri narrows his eyes and there’s a glimpse of a grin when he replies.

 

“I’m not worried about where we sleep, I’m worried that your  _ girlfriends _ might get jealous”

 

“Oh. You’re still stuck on that?”

 

“Well they didn’t seem to like hearing you talk to  _ Yuuro _ all that much.”

 

“Hmm, yes they did take my rejection very personally. I had to protect your manhood from meeting a very grisly end.” He flashes a rueful grin, “But can you blame them, they were very upset that the super hot guy wasn’t giving me the time of day.”

 

“And that’s all they did?”

 

“That and balmed my hurt pride with Vodka.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Yeah. I mean if you could refrain from getting trashed with strangers that’d be great, but I guess I have no right to-”

 

“No, but I understand the sentiment. Come on.” He presses a tiny kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. “Bed.”

 

 

* * *

  
  


They arrive at Phichits place still caught in an argument about the merits of using a unicorn plushie as an intimate companion, Phichit still holding firm that it’s practically unicorn abuse.

 

“Yes, but who else is going to sleep with him?”

 

“Who else is going to sleep with  _ Ryan Reynolds _ ? Um- Everyone with a working libido and a heartbeat?” Phichit fiddles with unlocking the door to his apartment throwing an eyeroll at him for emphasis, before he pushes the door wide and pulls Chris in behind him by their joined hands.

 

“Yes, but he’s melted Ryan Reynolds, far less incentive to present your genitals to  _ that. _ ” He heads to the fridge, pulling out the bottle of Chardonnay he’d dumped before they headed out to fulfill their humour and carnage ratio for the day. Phichit flops onto the couch with a grin.

 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re totally shallow?”

 

“It’s been mentioned once or twice....“

 

“Guess that makes me the lucky one then, for being born perfect.” Phichit accepts his glass and sips at the wine. If Chris focuses entirely upon the press of the lips on the rim of the glass, it’s probably because Phichit hasn’t kissed him properly since wednesday and he’s a little determined to pin him and kiss him senseless in the near future.

 

“No arguments here, you’re gorgeous.”

 

“You’re only saying that because you want in my pants.” 

 

“Again, not arguing. Your ass is sublime.” Not that he’s hinting or anything… They’ve been taking things slow, dinner dates and movies, walks in the parks and conversations that always run long. 

 

It’s been amazing, Phichit is amazing and yet Chris is starting to feel like he’s the only one left wanting at the end of their dates.

 

Phichit settles into the couch cushions and drags him down with him, Chris’ back pressed to his front as he fishes his phone out of his jeans. “Maybe in a bit, I’ve got super important business to tend to,” He gets a peck of lips to his ear before he’s snubbed for Phichits phone. The man was obsessed with the thing… He tries to focus on the screen, but is caught in the act, Phichit angling the screen away from him and pouting at him playfully.

 

“Is it really that bad if I see your phone?!” He wined.

 

“Yes- It’s super secret and has to stay super secret. Hamsters lives depend on this Chris. How can you be so unfeeling?” he asked dramatically, putting his hand to his forehead.  _ Drama queen _ . He gives it up as a lost cause, considering his other favorite drama queen.

 

Chris pulls out his own phone, and finds that apparently his boyfriend is more popular than he, since it’s empty of notifications. Nothing. Another annoyance, since he’d text Victor twice that day to check in on him, the radio silence was making him a little worried…

 

“Have you heard from Yuuri lately?” Phichit doesn’t even take his eyes from the screen.

 

“Yeah, we were playing Diablo earlier and he quit out.”

 

“Any particular reason for his sudden disappearance? Perhaps a certain Russian distracted him for his Diablo-ing?”

 

“Are you fishing?” 

 

“A little? I haven’t heard from Victor and I’m getting worried.” 

 

“Mmhm, yeah Yuuri’s been a pain in the ass the last few weeks, but I think tonight’s the night.” He didn’t even lift his eyes from his phone…

 

“And what makes you say that?”

 

“Call it a hunch?” He’s tapping away at his screen with a tiny crease between his eyebrows, biting his lip.

 

“You’re not being very helpful.” He’s pouting up at the other man, trying in vain to draw him out of his preoccupation with his phone. “What’s so important on your phone that you can’t spare a little attention for your boyfriend?” He reaches for the damned thing and his hand is slapped out of the way quickly.

 

“Nothing!” He locks the screen quickly. Huh.

 

“Nothing? Nothing sounds very much like  _ something _ .”

 

“Nothing that would interest my boyfriend right now I promise.” The phone gets dumped on the side table and Phichit finally gives him his full attention, Chris props himself on an elbow to get a better look at him. “Clearly you’re the clingiest boyfriend in history-”

 

“Am not! I just wanted to know what was more interesting than  _ me _ .” 

 

“Oh my God. Are you  _ jealous _ ?” Well shit, apparently it’s that obvious.

 

“Uh-”

 

“Oh wow you  _ are _ !” Phichit squirms out from under his back, small couch creaking as he adjusts his position to the point that they’re facing each other. “That is incredibly cute, Mr Giacometti.”

 

“Cute isn’t exactly my forte, Chulanont.” He attempts a smoulder, he really does, but Phichit starts giggling at him and it falls flat. Phichit takes a moment to regain his composure and smiles at him with mirth still glittering in his grey eyes.

 

“You say that, and yet, I’m completely unruffled. Look how unruffled I am-” And that’s the exact opening that Chris needs to claim his lips, Phichit’s smile widens for a millisecond before he responds. Phichit deepens the kiss, lips parting and tongue brushing his lightly. “Challenge accepted then?”

 

“Challenge  _ definitely _ accepted.” He’s pressing Phichit into the couch cushions by his arms, returning the provocative look he’s receiving tenfold before they come together again. Weeks of unused tension and flirting culminating in the feel of Phichit’s fingers darting up under his shirt, in the press of their bodies in the cramped quarters of the couch.

 

They guide each other through their first time, communicating sometimes with just the slightest press of lips, other times voicing their need into the warmth of the apartment. It’s no delicate thing, and not without it’s moments of uncertainty- they fumble and trip in places, especially in their attempt to move through the apartment and to the bedroom. Once they succeed in their venture to Phichit’s room, Chris without a shirt and pants loose around his hips, he finds himself very suddenly lowered into the sheets and being thoroughly debauched. 

 

“I thought I was the one who was doing the seducing.” His pants are gone, he manages to get the words out in a disbelieving tone as Phichit divests him of his underwear in one quick movement.

 

“I like to think this is a mutual seduction.”  

 

And wasn’t it just? They meet on the bed, moving in unison to embrace. Lips and teeth and touches that have him out of his clothes in minutes and gripping Phichit’s shoulders, head thrown back as his lips fasten over a collarbone and sucks. Getting Phichit out of his own clothes is the work of seconds, he’s above Chris, amazingly and perfectly naked and Chris takes in every inch of skin he can see.

 

He’s fucking breathtaking.

 

“What do you want?” The question hangs between them, Phichit’s hand on his face and tracing his brow bone with gentle fingers.

 

“Anything, everything. Mostly I just want you…” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but Phichit’s eyes are warm and his smile is curling before he captures his lips.

 

“How are you so perfect?” 

 

Hours later, curled up in each other they’re still talking and kissing, last vestiges of their lovemaking in the new weight behind their smiles and touches. Chris pulls Phichit to his chest, exhausted but overjoyed. 

 


	10. Gayish Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation between them had been stilted to begin with, Yuuri on his guard and Victor rising up against it in flushed anger, but it had broken under the weight of Victor’s bias’. Pity Fuck. The words had shaken Yuuri out of his prickly mindset in seconds, somehow under the sheer size of his mistakes he’d totally forgotten about Victor’s depression, forgotten about Chris’ warnings the night of the party and fallen head first into his own selfish anxiety without even wondering what could be passing through Victor’s mind.

 

Being hurried to bed by Victor was something of an annoyance, especially since they had barely scratched the surface of the things they needed to talk about and it was only eight pm. Yuuri sank into his sheets gladly after shuffling out of his loose jeans, clearly Victor knew best in this since he simply tucked Yuuri into his bed and left him to it, Makkachin hopping up and snuggling into him to lull him into sleep. 

 

The conversation between them had been stilted to begin with, Yuuri on his guard and Victor rising up against it in flushed anger, but it had broken under the weight of Victor’s bias’.  _ Pity Fuck _ . The words had shaken Yuuri out of his prickly mindset in seconds, somehow under the sheer size of his mistakes he’d totally forgotten about Victor’s depression, forgotten about Chris’ warnings the night of the party and fallen head first into his own selfish anxiety without even wondering what could be passing through Victor’s mind. 

 

Victor had self-worth issues, Yuuri had his own list of esteem issues but had never fallen to such thoughts. Yuuri was critical of himself to a fault, abled to bury himself in self-reproach as to his abilities but had never doubted his worth as a whole, only wishing he could be better, be  _ more _ . But Victor? He thought he was unworthy of something? Of anything? There were too many nuances in the concept that Victor would latch onto that idea- that he was a disposable entertainment easy to discard- too many things left unsaid. Yuuri had been gentle as he could in addressing the gaps, but there were still frustrating holes in his knowledge of Victor Nikiforov which he needed to fill before they even began to cross the vast chasms that lay between them. 

 

Makka’s panting breaths count him to sleep, her curls warming his side as he hears Victor flitting around in the next room. He’s drifting away before he realises he’s falling, a dreamless sleep greeting him in its embrace and he nuzzles into the dog’s fur. 

 

Yuuri wakes up to the mattress jostling wildly, heavy panting breaths hitting his face and paws hitting his chest as Makkachin vaults over him and off the bed. He feels like it’s been only minutes since he hit the mattress, but the darkness of the room and the hushing call Victor uses to scold his exuberant dog indicate a later hour. 

 

“Victor?” He hadn’t meant to call out, but he sounds unusually close, he blinks himself aware, eyes finding Victor restraining Makka in the doorway.

 

“I’m sorry, I only meant to crack the door for Makka- to let her out if she… she seems to have taken it as an invitation for playtime.” He’s clearly just showered, loosely wrapped in a bathrobe, hair stranding wetly around his sheepish face. He’s stood in the doorway looking uncertainly at Yuuri, lips wetted by the dart of  tongue and looking deliciously delightful in his freshly cleaned glory. “I’ll just…” He turns to leave.

 

Yuuri lifts his bedcovers “In.” He’s still not awake enough for full sentences, but he pats the empty mattress brokering no argument. Victor urges Makka back and closes the door behind her, turning back in time to see Yuuri backing up on the mattress to make room for him, he still looks torn as he makes his way over to the bed. 

 

“Are you sure about this, Yuuri?” He looks as tired as Yuuri had felt when Victor had shuffled him to bed earlier. The slump of his shoulders under the robe and the way his fingers bounce against his thigh make Yuuri want to drag him into a tight hug, to squeeze all of whatever has him on edge out of him in one go. Instead he nods before answering, “Yes. Get in here you’re letting all the heat out.” 

 

There’s a minute of jumbled limbs as Victor slides into the bed, knees bumping his and half apologies as Yuuri tucks the blanket over Victor’s shoulders. They’re inches apart, Victor’s expression guarded for moments before it eases when Yuuri gives him an encouraging smile. Victor relaxes infinitesimally, shoulders loosening and snuggling into the pillow. He doesn’t take his eyes from Yuuri’s as he closes the distance between their bodies with a careful hand, setting it against his waist. 

 

It’s then, with Victor’s thumb stroking gently across the fabric of his most comfortable sweater that Yuuri realises that he hasn’t touched Victor. That every time they’ve touched Victor had instigated, that every time Victor has been the one who reached for him  _ first _ . He was so careful about it, too. Since their night together he’d been anxious that Victor  _ hadn’t _ wanted him, been preoccupied by the sudden loss of his presence that he hadn’t considered that Victor had been holding himself back.

 

Did they have to hold themselves back anymore?

 

Victor had been overtly flirty and touchy in their first few weeks, before they’d fucked up and  _ fucked. _ Victor had been all shy smiles when they met in the mornings looking adorably ruffled, silly quips, naked yoga and texting. Yuuri had been the one to impose distance, Yuuri had been holding himself apart. Sleeping with Victor had been a monumental misstep, it had spun them off the axis they’d been tripping along in which Victor was wearing away Yuuri’s reticence with his exuberance. Winding him up into flurries of want so visceral that Yuuri had been thoroughly wrapped around his finger, and then it had been snatched away. All of that tension disappearing under their mutual indecision, their mutual preoccupation with their personal demons.

 

Maybe it was time for Yuuri to reach back… to even the playing field.

 

It was one small gesture that could become a leap into the unknown, but Yuuri wanted it. He had wanted it when he’d first seen Victor on his doorstep looking impeccably handsome, he’d wanted it the day he’d come home to find Victor snuggled on the sofa sleeping, book forgotten and dangling from his fingers with Makkachin curled up next to him looking incredibly annoyed at the restriction. He’d wanted it the morning of the party when they’d been arguing about the necessity of wearing clothing while doing yoga. 

 

He’d wanted  _ him _ , even during these weeks of enforced silence as they’d danced around each other. 

 

Victor’s thumb, still sweeping it’s way over his hip stops in its occupation when Yuuri reaches out, settling his palm on Victor’s cheek. He doesn’t know how to apologise properly, or how to put into boxy constricting words what he’s been feeling since the last time they touched this intimately, but the way Victor’s breath catches and his eyes fall shut under the touch speaks volumes in a language that they’re both fluent in.

 

“Yuuri…” His name is a whisper on Victor’s lips. The air between them is heavy, crackling with tension. Yuuri can feel the weight of Victor’s breath against his cheeks, can see the want in Victor’s eyes- the desire bubbling up as Yuuri’s fingers travel the slope of his neck. When Yuuri wets his lips, Victor tracks his tongue’s path. 

 

The inches between them disappear, falling to the first press of their lips that quickly turns into a second, and then a third. Small glancing touches, light as feathers and sweet as honey. He’s pulled into Victor’s arms, pressing himself up from knee to hip into the other man as they communicate with barely there brushes of lips that grow longer and heavier. 

 

For all that Victor has been the one who reaches out, he’s always held back in the taking. However, it’s Victor who takes charge this time, rolling them and pinning Yuuri into the mattress as they fall into each other. Those gentle kisses are growing urgent, Victor’s hands are sweeping the length of his torso, it’s all Yuuri can do to loop his arms around Victor’s neck and hold on for dear life when Victor starts to move against him in a twist of hips that harkens back to their last fuck in a filthy slide.

 

The first taste of Victor’s tongue pulls a groan from him, which pitches into a whine as they tangle further into each other. The heavy heat of desire that had prickled between them was turning into an inferno, Yuuri was half-hard already from the curling want in his abdomen. The press of Victor’s hips and tongue against him stoking the flames that licked wildly up his spine, into his chest in a blaze that had him rutting up into Victor.

 

He’s pushing at the shoulders of the loose fabric that is doing nothing to keep Victor’s skin from his, the folds of the robe falling away easily and gaining him access to bare skin, hot against his palms and he pulls Victor closer still. Victor is inching his shirt off between their chests, fingers mapping each of his ribs before he rears back to pull the offending item away. Yuuri lets himself be manhandled, lets Victor lead him up and out of his worn out shirt. Yuuri is suddenly and viscerally aware of the fact that Victor had been wearing nothing underneath the robe as it slides open, revealing Victor’s cock bobbing thick and half hard between his legs. The sight of it has a resurgence of heat and blood flooding straight to his groin, dick confined tightly in his boxers and now straining against the elastic that Victor is tracing lightly, his eyes on Yuuri. 

 

_ “Beautiful, Yuuri” _ It’s a reverent whisper as Viktor looks down on him, eyes shining in the half light afforded through the thin curtains. His accent curls thickly around the words, voice heavy with something that has Yuuri wanting to lay himself bare under the other man, to give back to him what has been so lost in their interactions. Victor’s fingers curl into the fabric of his underwear, but he looks to Yuuri, glance darting between his obvious arousal and his face.

 

“Yes.  _ Please.” _ He nods feverently along with his permission as Victor frees him quickly, sitting back on his ankles and taking him in. Victor's hands are on his knees, spreading him wide and Yuuri preens a little under the gaze as he watches Victor’s eyes roaming. Yuuri allows it, going so far as to lean into the grip on his knees and spread himself wider for a moment before he opens his arms, beckoning Victor back into his hold. Victor shrugs out of the robe, pushing the mass of fabric to the end of the bed before he's falling back on Yuuri, hands resuming his original occupation of mapping his chest inch by inch. Yuuri captures his lips, winding his legs around Victor's hips and pulling the flush once more. 

 

There's a moment of searing contact between their groins, of bumping rutting pleasure before Victor eases back, dragging the tip of himself down Yuuri's cock and moaning into the now bruising kiss. They're working on instinct as they move together, all grasping hands and rolling hips. Victor catches one of his nipples and rolls it between his fingers before he’s raking nails down Yuuri’s torso and trailing his lips down in their wake, it’s perfect and amazing and everything he needs right now. 

 

“Fuck-  _ Victor _ …” The words are pulled from him by the first touch of Victor’s fingers to his cock, brushing over him in the lightest of strokes. He pushes up into the feeling, Victor’s hand finding purchase around his dick and working him slowly. Yuuri responds in kind, gripping Victor and skimming his thumb over his head, pulling Victor back in for another kiss that has them breathless in moments. They’re fucking into each others fists, panting into each others mouths, caught in the feeling of tangled limbs and breaths.

 

Victor’s eyes are squeezed tight, forehead against Yuuri’s and features painted in shades of pleasure as Yuuri pulls them minutely closer, legs tightening around his thighs. Their hands are bumping between them, knuckles connecting as they work each other’s lengths. Yuuri gives himself over to the sensation, the press of Victor above him and the curling heat that's tightening his muscles. Its an intoxicating push and pull between their bodies and Yuuri is throwing himself into it, capturing Victor’s lips in another press.

 

He can feel his climax blossoming under Victor’s hot hand, under the feeling of skin on skin and their breaths mingling where he’s licking up into the sloppy kiss. There’s too much tongue and it barely qualifies, but the way Victor’s teeth catch his lower lip has his head reeling as he plummets into his orgasm, Victor following him over the edge and muffling a cry into his mouth. They paint his chest, their combined loads mingling and covering him in a claim that pleases him more than he’d expected. For a second he feels a swooping of delight as he takes in the sight of them pressed together, Victor and his cocks aligned after they’d removed their hands.

 

“Fuck- fuck.” Victor’s hips had stuttered against his thighs in climax, but he finally collapses and plants a feverish kiss against Yuuri’s lips before he buries his face in the crook of his neck. He snuggles into Yuuri, pressing them ever closer and Yuuri hugs him humming his agreement, still floating on the tide of sensation and pleasure. 

 

It takes them a few moments to fight back to reality, but the feeling of cooling come does it quickly, their chests tacky with evidence of their mutual pleasure. Victor doesn’t extract himself from Yuuri, he twines his arms around his neck and rolls them until he’s at the edge of the mattress and fishes with an arm until he finds an abandoned shirt. It’s wiped half-heartedly between them in a sweep that has them separated for seconds, and then unceremoniously dumped back to the floor.

 

“Nice.” He’s aiming for sarcastic, but Yuuri’s voice is muffled by Victor’s shoulder. He’s suddenly exhausted again, sleepless nights since the phone call compiling into a weariness that has him nuzzling into the crook of Victor’s neck.

 

“Don’t say I never do anything for you…” Victor is replying in kind, mirroring Yuuri like he so often does, but it’s softened by the press of lips at his temple.

 

* * *

  
  


The morning is… different.

 

Victor had woken to Yuuri jostling the bed as he freed himself with an apology, “Makkachin is whining to be let out.” He explains as he pulls a pair of boxers to his hips and heads to the door with a small smile just for Victor. He’s left to pull himself out of the haze of sleep, fighting the urge to curl back into the pillows and dream the day away. 

 

Last night had been like scaling mountains for their relationship. Yes it had been difficult, there had been moments like precipices where neither could see the way, they’d stumbled in places but they'd navigated to the summit together. Not that there still weren't things to discuss, they were at the summit and had to traverse the path downward together. 

 

Victor hadn’t entertained the thought that Yuuri could possibly want him, not even in his most delirious of hazy Vodka-filled nights after the fact. He’d taken Mari at her word that Yuuri was too kind,  _ he’d _ inferred all of Yuuri’s motivations for affection from an off-hand comment from a third party and run with it. He’d been the one to fuck up so badly, to read far too much into inconsequential words and contextualise them incorrectly. 

 

Yuuri had made quick work of dispelling any and all miscommunication, both verbal and physical. 

 

That first touch of Yuuri’s hand to his cheek and thrown everything into sharp relief, how very badly he’d misread the situation- how he’d been the force between the wedge that had been driven between them. Enforcing the distance from Yuuri had been easy for him, it was easy to simply bury his head in the sand, but there would always be the need to come up for air, forcing himself to surface from his isolation from Yuuri was the best decision he’d made in a long time. 

 

Yuuri had reached out, had caught him in his embrace and kept him there for the night, and Victor couldn’t help but hug Yuuri’s pillow as he revisited the memories of the night. Yuuri laid out beneath him, the slide of their bodies and heat of their skin, the press of their cocks and lips proof of the mutuality of their attraction. Yuuri wanted him, desired him, wanted him close. Just the thought of their bodies entwined had Victor’s heart picking up it’s pace, morning wood twitching up from half mast to full attention tratriously. 

 

He was still willing away his ridiculous erection when Yuuri nudged the door open with a hip, balancing a mug in each hand and aiming a small smile towards the bed, “Morning sunshine!” Victor tries to wrestle his way out of the sheets that seem to have him in a death-grip as Yuuri makes his way over laughing a little at his predicament, “You need a hand with that, or will I be undermining your masculinity if I help?”

 

“Fuck my masculinity, I can’t free my legs!” 

 

Between them they manage to untangle him, jostling and a few jabs of Yuuri’s elbows when Victor won’t lie still having their laughter mingling in the dim morning light of the bedroom. Yuuri slips back into the sheets once they’re freed, passing a mug of coffee and settling back against the pillows with a bright smile. “So, last night was…”

 

“Amazing?” 

 

“Yes…” Yuuri’s smile is still there, smaller but incrementally warmer as their gazes meet. Yuuri’s smiles could feed his happiness for a thousand years, especially when they’re so soft and just for him.

 

“Good.”

 

“But-”

 

“But?”

 

“We never really finished our conversation…” There’s a hint of a frown that has Victor wanting to smooth it away with kisses and soft touches. Yuuri’s right though, they never truly put into words what was happening between them, hadn’t defined or examined themselves as a pair.

 

“”We didn’t, no.” Yuuri rests his head on Victor’s shoulder, leaning into him with a huff of breath. “We can now, if you want to?” The only answer he gets is a tiny nod against his shoulder. 

 

“Well, the way I see it, you like me, and I like you… so that’s it right?” Victor is trying for bright and bubbly, but he can hear the creeping doubt on the edges of his question.

 

“Is it really that simple?” Yuuri looks up at him from under his lashes.

 

“It could be if we wanted it to.”

 

“Sure, we could just go with that, of course. But then…”

 

“Then?”

 

“Then we wouldn’t actually be  _ dealing _ with any of this,” he waves his free hand between them, darting a nervous look at Victor before focusing back to their feet tangled beneath the blankets. “We’d be trundling along without direction and… I dunno. I don’t think it’d be good for either of us not to know where we stand?”

 

“Well, where do we stand? Cos I’m sitting right now” The joke falls flat even as he makes it and his smile looks more manic than playful.

 

“Well I dunno.. I mean, like, are we just doing, like, fuck buddies or are we dating or ..?” There’s a hopeful gleam in his eyes as he looks up from Victor’s shoulder.

 

Viktor gulps his coffee wide eyed. There’s a jagged feeling in his chest at the words, a gnawing clawing possessive feeling that revolts at the thought of Yuuri sleeping with anyone else. Fuck buddies have been fun in the past, easy and inconsequential things that he’s indulged in for weeks or months at a time, but Yuuri is different. Yuuri is a mess of contradictions and bright smiles, a man who can challenge Victor to reign himself in and spur him into action. Yuuri is  _ special _ .

 

“Ah, well I-” He’s fumbling for the right words, to find the language to cover what he wishes Yuuri would allow him, possessive, greedy things.

 

Yuuri’s shoulders droop slightly as he looks at the mug in his hand, the light that had been playing in his gaze disappears and he pulls out of Victor’s space incrementally. “So you don’t think...”

 

“No” the word is out of his mouth before he knows he’s going to speak.  “I don’t want that with you- fuck buddies- I want more...” He’s tapping his fingers against the rim of his mug “I want everything.” he adds so quietly that Yuuri squints up at him, taking a second to parse the mumbled words.

 

“Oh.” Yuuri breathes, looking down at his cooling coffee, Victor watches his cheeks darkening and panics.

 

“Oh?” Of course Victor’s overstepped. Of course he’s opened his big mouth and asked too much from Yuuri, scaring him off with his obsessive need to  _ take. _ He opens his mouth to take it back, to get back to where they were before he fucked it up again, but Yuuri beats him to it.

 

“Me too.” 

 

Oh. Yuuri wants that too? 

 

_ Yuuri wants that too! _

 

“Oh.” 

 

It takes a second to pull Yuuri’s mug from his hands, adding it to the bedside where he’d stashed his own coffee and then he’s reeling Yuuri into his arms and kissing every bit of his face he has access to, lips glancing over cheekbones and nose, pulling delighted giggles from the other man. “Victor!” Yuuri squirms in his arms and fights Victor down, rolling and pinning him to the bed, sheets pooling around his hips. There’s that delightful sparking of heat between them again, but it’s tempered by the bright smile on Yuuri’s lips before he captures Victors lips in a kiss. It’s chaste, warm and has a bubble of happiness careening through Victor’s chest at the contact.

 

“Boyfriends, then?” Yuuri smiles down at him. The happy bubble redoubles its efforts at stealing his breath away and Victor beams back at him.

 

“Boyfriends.” Yuuri chuckles at the speed Victor agrees.

 

“Perfect.” Victor hugs him close, delighted in how readily Yuuri is smiling at him and at the feel of Yuuri’s weight on his chest. It  _ was _ perfect. But it could be  _ better _ .

 

“Hmm. Almost-” 

 

“What?!” 

 

“Well, it would be perfect if I could take you for a date! Hmm… How do I woo Yuuri Katsuki?”

 

“Pizza usually works, however if you ever put pineapple on it again I retain the right to dump you immediately-”

 

“Oh. I totally messed that up didn’t I?” He’d been harbouring guilty feelings about that for weeks, mixing up the order had been a genuine mistake he’d only realised upon discovering the remains of the abandoned pizza in the bin the next morning. 

 

“I’ll forgive you this once.” Yuuri grins into his chest, nuzzling a little. “So this date- did you have any ideas for when? I mean I’d have to check my schedule, but I think I could be free for you… Thursday?”

 

Thursday. Well shit.

 

“Oh fuck- I’m not here. I have a job.” 

 

“A job?”

 

“Yeah, I’m in Milan for the day.” Maybe he should have explained this particular quirk of his career in their initial meeting, the sudden departures and hectic build up to the spring season dragging him on cross continental flights for single appearances. It had been worse when he was younger, of course, hot new designer on the scene needing to be seen in all the right places. Now he could hole up in his studio for months at a time and only show his face at the most prestigious of soirees, but fashion week was creeping up on him and there were junior designers who needed guidance, and his photoshoot was something he couldn’t wriggle out of no matter how much he’d begged Yakov.

 

“You’re flying to Milan. For a day?” Yuuri pulls out of the hug to look down on him, puzzled.

 

“Well technically it’ll be two days but…” 

 

“Because?” 

 

“I’m being dragged out by the fashionistas at Vogue to do a feature.” He tries to shrug it off as no big deal, to underplay it. Not because he doesn’t want to tell Yuuri the truth, but because this is the first time he’s had anyone who didn’t know who he  _ was _ , who didn’t have a list of expectations a mile long to conform to.  

 

“You’re… what?” Apparently this is something he  _ definitely  _ should have explained earlier… “I thought you worked in textiles-”

 

“Technically I do?”

 

“You work in textiles to the point that Vogue want you for a feature? So you’re..?”

 

“A designer. I used to model too, when I was younger and prettier.” He doesn’t mean it to sound so bitter.

 

“Hold on, I’m still struggling with the Vogue thing…” Yuuri says faintly, looking for all the world like he’s trying and failing to divide by zero. “So you’re going to Milan, to do a photoshoot for a feature article about?”

 

“The upcoming Spring collection. What I’m working on for fashion week. Probably some crap about how  _ influential _ I am to modern fashion.” He can’t help the grimace that mars his features, he both loves and loathes the attention. Yuuri is still looking at him like he’s grown an extra head, so he tries for another subject. “Speaking of, Yurio is going to be picking me up to run me to the airport tonight- he’s going to pick up Makka for the week afterwards.”

 

“So you’re a world famous fashion designer who’s going to Milan to interview with Vogue and talk about your work.” Yuuri is frowning at the pillow beside Victor’s head before he starts to chuckle to himself, “Okay. But I think I like the sound of ‘my boyfriend’ better.”

 

“Honestly? Me too.” They share a shy smile, Yuuri still looking a little shaken by the news. Victor can try to placate him though, to offer some comfort right? He pulls Yuuri back into the hug, hands running the length of his spine as he talks. He lays almost all of it out, the modelling that had him so fucking scared of his own reflection he’d ended up cutting his hair off in a moment of panic- The switch to designing that had the media calling his career dead before he’s even done his first showing. The reams of people who’d only wanted him for his name or his image. “...I like the me with you better than the me in front of the cameras. It used to be my everything, but somewhere along the way I lost my love for it...” 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“What’re you sorry for? I chose this for myself and finally hit a wall.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry you’ve struggled, and wish there was something I could do to help you.” 

 

“You being you helps me. You treating me like a person helps. You wanting me for me and not some ideal is more than I ever imagined I’d ever get in my life.” The words are pushed out on a surge of feeling that has his hands shaking against Yuuri’s back. “You have no idea how amazing it is just to be allowed to be  _ me _ .”

 

“No, I don’t.” Yuuri’s fingers are on his cheek, guiding him to look at him. His eyes are shining and he’s brimming with some emotion that Victor can’t place. “But the you you are with me is my favorite. I don’t know the other’s, and I don’t want to.” He smiles up before kissing him with a grin, “Although I’m not going to say no to seeing your modelling days… Did they make you wear anything embarrassing? Oh my god, did you do nudes? Can I-”

 

“Shut up Yuuri!”

 

“Shutting up!”

 

“Oh for god's sake-” Victor silences him with another kiss, and another. They wrestle in the bed for a few minutes just luxuriating in the feeling of each other, in the newness of them. Victor is just considering options for taking this to a much more fun and sweaty place when Yuuri pulls away.

 

“Tell Yurio not to bother with Makka. I’m keeping her.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“She’s not going anywhere.” Yuuri says firmly, and the happy bubble that had deflated after discussing his career flares back to life, “She should be at  _ home _ . Now unless you still have packing to do, I suggest a shower.”

 

“Are you saying I stink?” Victor offers Yuuri a scandalised look as he drags the pair of them up and out of bed.

 

“No, I’m saying we both still have dried jizz on our stomachs, and if I’m going to blow you I’d like for us to be at least marginally cleaner before I pin you against the shower wall.”

 

Now that is an offer that Victor could never refuse.

  
  



	11. Pining? Moi? You must be delusional, sir....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He used to love flying, liked to be waited upon by air hostesses and watch the world go by from twenty thousand feet. There had been something about the exclusivity of it, the clean lines of first-class appealing to his personal tastes in a way so few things did. But now it was just another obstacle in the way of getting back to a little house in the suburbs of Detroit, where the most irrationally attractive man he’d ever met was waiting for him.

**Chapter Eleven**

 

Yuuri  _ isn't  _ pining. 

 

Honestly, he’s not. He’s just a little… lonely.

 

Even with their seperation of those weird three weeks after the party, having Victor in the house as merely a presence had done wonders for his anxiety. But now here he is, wandering room to room bored out of his mind because the one thing he wants to do - mainly talk to Victor, to solidify the foundations they’d put down in the hazy, spring light filtering into his bedroom on a Monday morning when he should have been working (from home as he’d informed Leo in a quick call when he’d let Makka out) - is distressingly out of reach while he’s in another country.

 

There was a level of dissonance occurring within Yuuri. He was trying to process the glut of information he’d been handed by Victor before his sudden departure, trying to reason away everything Victor had told him, but he was struggling. There was hearing your boyfriend was an internationally recognised model and designer, then there was  _ understanding _ that he was.   

 

So Yuuri did what any twenty four year old would do, and took to the internet.

 

It had been an illuminating experience. Having little to no idea about design, nor any particular interest beyond functionality and comfort, he’d fallen into a world with little of either, within which existed  _ The _ Victor Nikiforov. He was lauded as a visionary, as a man who had changed the face of the fashion industry from both sides, as the future of avant garde. Or, alternately, as a has-been who needed to bow the hell out already. Yuuri had taken this all in with wide eyes and a pinch of salt (in the case of the last bits anyway). 

 

Surely if Victor was this well know it had to be for a reason. It seemed there had been much discussion of his sexuality in the mid-nineties when he’d broken into the modelling world with a thump, bright eyed and breathtakingly beautiful. Yuuri had been a little shocked by the difference. He’d been long haired, elfin and ethereal; he had redefined gender norms in modelling, going head-to-head with the biggest names in fashion and not sparing a glance in their direction.

 

It was  _ daunting _ .

 

Suddenly all of those faceless people he had scorned who had passed through Victor’s arms before him didn’t seem so fickle. He could see how those blinders could settle over the most rational of eyes and fixate upon the singular fact that Victor Nikiforov was a goddamn  _ legend _ . That didn’t excuse them though, all of the unknown relationships that had fizzled out under the force of Victor’s perceived presence. 

 

The Victor Yuuri knew wasn’t daunting because of his name, or his career. Victor was daunting because he was a relatively unknown force, an unstoppable wave of passion that had met Yuuri head on and not faltered a step when they landed together. He was giddy with vodka and sultry with climax, clingy in sleep and infuriatingly untouchable in their first few weeks living together - ultimately, Victor was a person Yuuri was desperate to know, to uncover all of the quirks that lay beneath the surface.

 

Or maybe, just maybe, Yuuri was overthinking it.

 

 

* * *

  
  


“Anything but the Versace. No. Not the Westwood. We need it to look light for god's sake-” Maree was getting more irate by the moment and Victor had been sat in a light breeze and not much more than his briefs for ten chilly minutes. Thank god they’d provided him with a mimosa or this would have been excruciating…

 

He’s relieved when his phone chirps from the formica tabletop he’s meant to be faux-drinking espresso on, he almost unseats his mimosa in his need for distraction.

 

Chris:

Bored…

 

_ V: _

_ You’re bored? How can I be of service dearest? _

 

Chris: 

U busy?

 

_ V: _

_ If you call listening to squabbling art directors busy, then yes? _

 

Chris:

Ouch.

 

_ V: _

_ Once upon a time they wouldn’t have dared to keep me waiting. _

_ Am I losing my touch in my old age, or am I just nicer? _

 

Chris:

Neither

U got laid

 

_ V: _

_ Well you’re not wrong :) _

 

Chris:

Okay, I was only joking.

Wait. 

Really???

 

_ V: _

_ That would be telling ;) _

 

Chris:

Stop using those hideous emojis and call me!!!!

 

 

Victor barely has time to read the message before the screen is filled by Chris’ image, snuggling with his kitten and pouting.

 

_ “Victor…” _

 

“Chris! Lovely to hear from you, it’s been a while-”

 

_ “Hilarious.” _

 

“This I know-”

 

_ “Spill or I’ll march over to your place and ask your beau- Or I’ll ask  _ mine. _ ” _

 

Victor wouldn’t usually act so coy, in fact with his best friend he’s normally rhapsodised over whomever he’s seeing within hours of their first meeting. But Yuuri is… different. Something about this relationship is so fragile that talking about it feels almost like a form of blasphemy, to try and define it in terms his friend would understand. The concept leads Victor down a rapid track of realisation. Things with Yuuri feel delicate yes- but not because of it’s newness, nor the peculiarity of their beginnings, but because Victor doesn’t want to  _ share _ it. 

 

He doesn’t want to laud it over anyone, nor does he want to allow it to be sullied by others’ opinions, he wants to keep his and Yuuri’s relationship under wraps because he’s _ possessive _ of it.

 

_ “Victor? Are you still there?” _

 

“Sorry, yes. I’m going to have to go, I’m mid-shoot and they seem to have made their minds up- Gotta go, love yooou!.” He’s saying the words but they’re barely touching the edges of his consciousness as they flow from him, “I’ll fill you in when I get back.”

 

Ending the call seems like the best option, perhaps the only real option when he feels like his brain has been derailed in such a quick and easy few words. He’s not the possessive type, never has been, yet he’s refusing to share the details of his relationship with Yuuri to his best friend because he doesn’t want him to know? He feels like he’s swimming through mud as the session with the photographer continues, he’s relying on muscle memory and something like dreamwalking.

 

Whatever this new thing is - possessiveness, needy clinging - it’s about Yuuri. Yuuri who is thousands of miles out of his reach right now.

  
  


* * *

 

 

 

“Hey idiot are you in here?”

 

Yuuri was in the middle of deciding between eating his weight in potato chips or ordering takeout. Takeout had been winning the argument sheerly on it’s ability to be delivered to him by hand and in minutes while still holding some nutritional value. Usually he’d be out at Phichit’s place playing Super Smash Brothers and gorging on pizza, but Chris had stolen his best best friend for the night. He’d settled in for a night of lounging, idly considering playing a few rounds of Mario Kart online, he hadn’t been expecting visitors, nor has he been informed that Victor had given his keys to his cousin before he’d left. So when Yuri Plisetski enters his house at 6pm, it’s to find Yuuri scrolling through his phone in his underwear and a t-shirt that never gets worn outside of his bedroom.

 

“Jesus Christ! Put some clothes on!”

 

“Yurio?”

 

“Don’t call me that!” The kid is shielding his eyes as Yuuri shuffles to the laundry room and grabs some sweats, ignoring the flailing from the hallway as he pulls them on. “You and my cousin are made for eachother, are you nudists or what?”

 

“Is there a reason you’re invading my home Yurio, or did you just come for the show?” Where that’d come from he’s not sure, but Yurio coughs heavily having nearly swallowed his tongue.

 

“I came to check up on the dog. Victor said I didn’t have to but I…” He trails off looking irritated. That was... unexpectedly sweet. “I thought you’d be out. Victor said you’re out at your friends place on wednesdays.” It sounds like an accusation rather than an enquiry, but Yuuri explains himself anyway. Yurio’s deep frown pulling the words from him quickly. 

 

“Phichit’s out on a date with Chris,” He shrugs, “I was just going to order some food and play mario kart until I pass out, unless you want to join me?”

 

It couldn’t hurt to hang out with the kid, and it might stop him from getting too emo while he definitely _ doesn’t _ pine for Victor…

 

“You’re going down, Katsuki.”

 

An hour later, Yurio is furiously chasing his ass around Rainbow Road with a green shell aimed directly at poor Princess Peach, Yuuri doesn’t let him get the shot off, evading his quickly and trash talking between bites of pizza. 

 

“You’re fucking evil.” The kid is moaning into his nunchucks, leaning forward as though that’d get Bowser to move faster.

 

“Nope, just well versed at kicking ass in Mario Kart.” Yuuri shrugs easily.

 

“Well, I’m going to show you up on the next round I fucking swear it.”

 

There’s a glint of challenge in Yurio’s eye, and a determined set to his jaw as they gear up for the next course. “Prove it!”

 

They trash talk and goad each other through another three courses, Yurio finally beating Yuuri by 0.12 of a second on Moo Moo Meadows by sheer luck because Makka distracts him. The victory laps go on for five minutes because Yurio wants pictures to prove he beat Yuuri to show his friends.

 

“I knew I could do it, I’m amazing at Mario Kart.” 

 

“Huh, yet you’ve only won once. Nice going...” The shade of red Yurio attains at that probably fuels at least the next three rounds. After Yuuri ends Luigi’s Mansion with a good thirty second lead, watching Yurio becoming more and more irate as he’s left in the dust, they finally call it a night. 

 

Yurio decides to check up on Makkachin, which by his standards is looking at her and saying ‘Yep, still a dog.’, and moving on.

 

“You know, you’re not as terrible as the guys Victor usually moons over.”

 

“What?”

 

“You do know he’s obsessed with you right? Surely you’re not dense enough to have missed that?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Wow. Okay.” Yurio rolls his eyes, “You’re both as bad as each other. He’s been talking about you non-stop. It’s annoying as fuck. Apart from after the party, but then… yeah. Uh never mind.” He trails off looking supremely uncomfortable.

 

“Another round?” Yuuri suggests. It’s the only thing he can think of to dispel Yurio’s discomfort, the kid perks up immediately with a defiant glint in his eye.

 

_ “I’m going to destroy you.” _

 

Yuuri thankfully manages to curtail the urge to answer ‘That’s what Victor said.’ and shuffles them back into the living room, and the relative comfort of shit-talking and Mario Kart.

 

 

* * *

  
  


 

“Well that was informative.” Chris is frowning at his phone like it had insulted him.

 

“Victor?” Phichit might have been scrolling his ask blog again, it was a bad habit he’d formed since they’d started dating. He would get back from a date, collapse on the couch with Chris, snuggle and look through his asks. He shouldn’t do it with Chris there, he knows that Chris is suspicious already…  _ but. _

 

But there’s a part of him that just doesn’t care anymore?

 

He’s kept his little secret for years, not because he’s ashamed or he thinks it’s silly, but because it was an escape from reality. At first it was applying the ideas he picked up from his psych minor to real life, then it was to take a break from the stress of college and too many essays, becoming a thing of its own once he got a real job and needed to blow off all that 9-5 tension he was building up on a daily basis. 

 

Now he does that with giggle fights with Chris when they argue over who gets the last Coors from the fridge on a sunday night, or by holding hands and walking to the nearest hotdog stall in the park, wrapped up from the still chilly winds coming from lake Michigan like a vapour. He answers his asks, he appeases the masses, but it’s not something he  _ needs _ like he used to. Not when he has Chris taunting him across the expanse of their pillows before swooping in for kisses and cuddles and more. 

 

“Yes, Victor- who the hell else would I be talking to?”

 

“One of your hundreds of friends I’m sure!” Chris offers him a pout that has Phichit grinning in reply before he drops a kiss to his chest.

 

“If you’re going to drag me my love, at least put down your phone first.” Chris grins at him, “Millennials…”

 

“Well I’m your Millennial, so you should be nicer to me or I’ll stop sending you memes while I’m bored at work.” It gets exactly the reaction he was aiming for, Chris grasping his chest in mock hurt.

 

“Phichit Chulanont. How could you?” 

 

“Incredibly easily.” He grins, but he locks his phone and fixes his attention on the man lying over his legs, his own ridiculously long legs dangling off the couch precariously, “So Victor?”

 

“Yes. It seems he got laid. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you darling?”

 

“Hmm. Nope. It seems we’re being boycotted in our meddling by our friends.” Phichit sniffs.

 

“But you think…?” 

 

“Definitely.”

 

“Because…?” Chris wheedles, his voice pitching higher than should be possible without losing all semblance of Cool. Why is Chris so Cool?

 

“Yuuri’s radio silenced. He only goes on lockdown if he’s panicking or he’s getting laid.”

 

“How do you know he’s not panicking then?” He’s propped his head up on his hands, looking up at Phichit from his chest with a small frown.

 

“I saw him this afternoon. He’s fine, totally normal.” Chris gives him a doubtful look, “Okay, maybe not normal. He was spacing out every five minutes. But when he was not getting laid and not panicking he was calling me every day to complain about your delightful best friend being naked or offering to wash his back. He’s  _ mooning _ over him I swear it.”

 

“Oh… oh that is just adorable!” Chris smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

 

“I know right?”

 

“I’d say they’re almost as cute as us, but..” He grins, tilting a smile up that makes Phichit want to drag him up and kiss him thoroughly. Instead he bops Chris on the nose with a finger and gives him a cheeky grin.

 

“Well, yes. Nothing is as cute as you.”

 

“I’m not cute Chulanont. We’ve talked about this.” He’s on the receiving end of a deep frown from his boyfriend that does nothing to stop him wanting to giggle, Chris was just too easy to wind up sometimes.

 

“Yes, we have.” 

 

“And you don’t agree?” Chris frowns heavily up at him, pouting.

 

“Agree that?” Any second now one of them is going to crack...

 

“You’re going to make me say it?” 

 

“You know what I want to hear…” He loves it. He loves that Chris plays along with the silliness without getting annoyed at his  _ childishness _ (as so many had who’d preceded him) and simply allows him to be himself. Chris even pulls this side of him to the fore more often than not, teasing and prodding him until he bites back with a playful retort and off they go again. He’s getting so comfortable in this, in their relationship-

 

“Fine. I’m seductive and sexy and dynamite in the sack.” The delivery is completely deadpan and finally Phichit succumbs to the giggles he’s been fighting down. And Chris laughs right along with him, it’s almost perfect… 

 

“You’re too easy, Giacometti.”

 

“Now how’re you going to prove it, hmm?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


 

The flight back from Milan is nothing short of hell. 

 

Victor has been shuttled between flights, hotels, airports, and photoshoots. He’s been cross examined by interviewers and poked and prodded by makeup artists. Now all he wants is to go  _ home _ .

 

He wants to cuddle up on the couch with Makka and read, or cuddle up in bed with Yuuri and talk. He wants to see what the new boundaries they’ve so recently set have done to them as a pair, and see where they go from there. All that’s stopping him is an eleven hour flight.

 

He used to love flying, liked to be waited upon by air hostesses and watch the world go by from twenty thousand feet. There had been something about the exclusivity of it, the clean lines of first-class appealing to his personal tastes in a way so few things did. But now it was just another obstacle in the way of getting back to a little house in the suburbs of Detroit, where the most irrationally attractive man he’d ever met was waiting for him. 

 

The cushions of his seat are stiff against his back as he settles in for the long haul.

 


	12. Unmasking Uncle Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He catches Yuuri watching him over the top of his screen sometimes, sending him small smiles and come-hither looks.
> 
> Victor always goes.
> 
> Victor can’t resist the warmth of Yuuri’s arms as he drops his work and shuffles into his embrace.

 

It’s Thursday.

 

It’s fucking Thursday and Yuuri has a  _ date _ with his  _ housemate  _ on Friday night. 

 

Yuuri isn’t panicking. In fact he’s facing down the concept of a date with a world famous fashion designer in perfect Yuuri style - he’s tearing apart his wardrobe trying to put together something that resembles an outfit and being utterly confused as to how he managed to snag Victor Nikiforov as his dinner buddy.

 

He’s been through every item of clothing he owns, he’s dragged out even the most ridiculous things he owns in the hope there’s a smidge of wearability in them… and failed. It’s at the exact moment his brain decides it might just be the perfect time to panic, that his phone buzzes from under a pile of shirts on his bed. It takes him a few minutes to locate which of the clothes piles contains the damn thing before he frees it from between his least impressive beige shirt and a t-shirt he’d been given at a rager in college that JJ has hosted. The wrestling match that he finally wins by unloading the shirt pile onto the floor does nothing to relieve the pricking of anxiety that’s making his fingers jittery.

 

_ Victor: _

_ On the last leg now, can’t wait to see you :) _

 

Oh.

 

Shit, Victor is on a plane back  _ now _ . He’s going to be landing in less than twelve hours and he’s going to be jetlagged for half the day. And Yuuri’s worrying about  _ shirts _ .

 

He takes a deep breath.

 

And another.

 

And another.

 

Then he replies to Victor, telling him he’ll be waiting at the gate (with Makka, but he’s keeping that a secret) and he can’t wait to see him. Then he dials Phichit.

 

“Party line. Whazzzzzuuuuuuu-” Phichit’s cheery greeting is cut short by the involuntary cringe and whine it pulls from Yuuri. “Yuuri?”

 

“No.” It’s all he feels he can manage in the face of Phichit’s insurmountable cheer.

 

“Okay. No party for grumpy Yuuri.” Phichit supplies simply, dropping into the rhythm of the conversation instinctively. There’s a reason they’re best best friends after all, and it’s the fact that they can judge pretty much within seconds what they need from each other.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You sound a bit stressed.” Phichit ventures tentatively.

 

“Understatement? I’m uh-” He fumbles for the words for a moment, “I’m trying to pick out an outfit. For a date.”

 

“A date with…” 

 

“Victor.” Yuuri knows that Phichit is probably having to pinch himself to restrain the squeals he’d normally be letting rip right now.

 

“Lovely.” Yep, that’s the sound of a best best friend who’s on the verge of exploding...

 

“You’re not going to say anything about that?” 

 

“Apart from I bet your bedroom looks like a hurricane visited? Nope. Not a word.” Phichit chirps back at him.

 

“Okaaaaay.” Any other day, Phichit would be all over this with a hundred questions.

 

“Do you  _ want _ me to say something?”

 

“I don’t know. I thought you might have something to say.” Yuuri shrugs, looking at the chaos that is his bedroom with a wince. He’d really gotten on top of himself today...

 

“I have a lot of things to say Yuuri, but you sound like you’re about to freak out about shirt shades and I don’t think me digging into your reasons would help right now.” Phichit’s voice is gentle, “Right now, what you really need is probably perspective. Am I right?”

 

“Yes.” There’s no denying it. “Lay it on me?”

 

“You’re freaking out and I’m going to hazard a guess it’s because Victor isn’t there with you, he’s still travelling right?” He pauses, and Yuuri huffs out an agreement before Phichit continues, “You’re your own worst enemy when you’re left to your own devices, Yuuri. Victor likes you. You like Victor. If you guys were together right now you wouldn’t be doubting that, but because you have the space to doubt, you do.”

 

“I’m just… nervous? I guess.”

 

“Nervous is good, in small doses. It's only when nervous becomes anxious that it’s a bad thing… Are you going to tell me how you ended up organising a date with a guy you were snubbing a week ago? I’m dying to know.” Phichit flips from gentle best best friend to hyper-excited, “Tell you what, put me on speaker and you can tell me while you reconstruct your wardrobe from Hurricane Yuuri!”

 

Yuuri doesn’t bother to try suppressing his laugh, he chuckles and sets his phone on the bedside table as he tidies, letting Phichit’s questioning ease him down from his nervousness as he works.

 

* * *

 

 

“I missed you so much.” It’s muffled into Yuuri’s neck as he embraces him, Yuuri’s arms fastening around his middle tightly. Makka is hopping up at them with happy barks and nearly toppling them.

 

“I missed you-” Yuuri manages before they’re finally separated by his darling dog squeezing between them and demanding attention. 

 

“I  _ missed _ you.” Victor tells him over Makka’s head as he pets her, laughing as she attacks his cheeks with kisses.

 

“I missed  _ you. _ ” Yuuri tells him feverently, grabbing his free hand and squeezing. Just having Yuuri’s hand in his is a grounding experience, it pulls him back from the isolated edge he treads whenever he’s alone in the world...

 

“You two are disgusting and you’re making a fucking scene. It’s been four days-” His cousin, however, is less enthusiastic about their reunion, scowling at the three of them huddled on the floor of the gate and exchanging hugs between himself, Yuuri and Makka. Victor ignores him.

 

“No, Yuuri,  _ I  _ missed  _ you _ .” Yurio makes a noise like an angry cat and shoots him a sour look.

 

“Just get in the car. Beka’s going to get fined.”

 

* * *

 

Phichit has always known he’s a bit of a daydreamer, he has flights of fancy that can pull him a million miles from reality in minutes. He has never known himself to be delusional though.He’d been scrolling through his asks, idly wondering whether he had time to answer a few before dinner was ready. A few had caught his eye as promising… 

 

**Anonymous asked:**

 

Hi uncle art, this is a bit different but I'm having a hard time rn and can't talk to anyone else. My big Bro has always been my hero and like we used to spend a lot of time together, there's a big age gap (like 8 years) and he was like a dad to me. He used to take me out on hikes and to the park and shit all the time. 

 

He got a girl a few months ago and nothing much changed but now they broke up and he's really down about it. I'm kinda scared because I don't know how to help him at all and I just wanna see him smile again. 

 

Sorry if this isnt your thing

 

_ The littlest bro _

 

Aww, it was so sweet! He hit reply quickly already ruminating over the problem.

 

 

> **ask-uncle-art replied:**
> 
>  
> 
> Hey littlest bro, 
> 
>  
> 
> I can see why you're worried, having a sudden change in your life can be a scary thing, especially when the change happens to someone who's always been there for you like your big Bro. 
> 
>  
> 
> Breakups suck, there are no two ways about it and someone always ends up hurt in the end, but relationships like that come and go, the best way to help your brother smile again is to remind him of the things that used to make him smile before the break up. Give him your support and love,and don't forget that healing takes time. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you get your smiles back littlest bro
> 
>  
> 
> Uncle Art

 

Hitting the publish button gave him a small thrill and a wide smile that Chris puzzled over as he set out their meal, he’d made Pangang Beef curry that smelled so good that Phichit was racing over to the tiny two seater table.

 

“You know, your phone seems to be getting ample amounts of attention today daring, anything special on there?” Chris levels him a look that is half amused and half frustrated. He knows Chris has been dying to know what keeps his so busy, but he’s not quite ready to out himself yet. For a long time his Uncle Art persona has been his shield against boredom, and a way to help others in need even if just a little. Now… well, he’s a little embarrassed by how interested his boyfriend  _ is _ in it. 

 

“That would be telling…” Deflecting. He’s turning into Yuuri now for god's sake… 

 

His phone alights with a notification at that exact moment, brightening on the tiny table between their cramped plates and glasses of beer. Chris snatches it up before he can drop his fork and reads it out. Phichit can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks.

 

“Tumblr: Ask Uncle Art: Katsu-Yuu asks - How do i… What’s an Uncle Art?” Chris is grinning playfully, but Phichit’s stomach feels like it’s in knots. If it had to come out it should have been him telling Chris, not Chris discovering his secret by force.

 

“You’re just going to brush aside the invasion of privacy?” Chris just shrugs with an easy grin.

 

“Not at all, I’m just curious.”

 

“Well there’s a few good old fashioned saying about Curiosity Christophe.” He’s making grabby hands over the table, Chris ignores them and looks back at the screen.

 

“Who’s Katsu-Yuu?”

 

“Katsu-Yuu? That’s…” That’s  _ Yuuri _ . “Chris gimmie my phone.”

 

There must have been something in his tone that brooked no argument because Chris frowns, but hands the device over. Phichit’s heart is thumping heavily in his chest as he unlocks the phone and pulls up his notifications. Sure enough, there it is in black and white, Katsu-Yuu sent Uncle Art an ask, something about first date jitters and his best best friend being awesome but he doesn’t want to be a bother blah blah… and it’s signed  _ Confused About Love _ .

 

When he drops his phone it clangs heavily off the edge of his bowl, breaking the stunned disbelief before it can even set in and sending Phichit’s mind whirling.

 

He must have forgotten to hit anon before it send. He must have been so nervous he didn’t notice the mistake and sent it to Phichit. Sent it to  _ him _ . Like he had so many times over the last couple of months, like he did when he didn’t want to show Phichit just how much Victor had gotten under his skin. 

 

_ Fuck _ .

 

“Phichit. I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to upset you by snatching your phone. I was- I just-”

 

Chris is by his side with a hand on his shoulder, trying to look into face, he’s having a hard time focusing around his brain working a million miles an hour trying to work out just how he’d managed to be this stupid. How could he not have recognised his best best friend?

 

“Phichit?”

 

He gives himself a minute shake, blinking quickly. Chris looks so concerned and incredibly chastened by his reaction.

 

“I’m okay, I just… Fuck me how did this  _ happen _ ?” He runs a hand through his fringe, pushing it back and eyeing his fallen phone as though it might bite. Well it already did, sort of. It’s driven a small wedge into his fledgling relationship and given him inside info on his best friend that would definitely not be appreciated.

 

So then, it was time to fix shit. Starting with Chris, who was taking the extended silence badly by the way his hand was lingering on Phichit’s shoulder in a biting squeeze, that was just this side of painful.

 

“Okay. I’m okay but I think I might have fucked a few things up… Incidentally fucked them up.” Chris’ hand drops and he kneels on the floor putting their faces level. 

 

“You haven’t fucked up with me, you didn’t fuck up with me. I was being pushy and childish-” Chris is so earnest, his green eyes wide and imploring until he’s cut off. Phichit can’t allow him to keep apologising though. They’re both equally at fault here.

 

“No. Well, maybe. We’ve both been a bit childish, but mine is a bit more damaging that yours right now. I…” He isn’t sure how to start, so he unlocks his phone and turns the screen. “I let you be jealous over something trivial and I’m sorry, but the trivial thing might have become a gigantic fuck up and… I don’t know. I fucked up too.”

 

Chris takes the phone lightly, one hand firmly on Phichits knee as he scans the screen with a frown. “What is this? Who’s Uncle Art?” His tone is puzzled and he looks bemusedly at Phichit.

 

“I am. It’s a thing I started years ago, in college. I was bored and feeling like crap, so I started a blog to offer up relationship advice to anonymous people who needed someone to talk to. It was a little self-esteem for me, and help for people who needed it, but… That last ask. It’s Yuuri’s blog.” He runs a hand through his hair again waiting for a reaction, but his boyfriend is impassive as he reads over the screen again. “He’s been messaging me anonymously for months, but he must have forgotten to anon tonight.”

 

“So Yuuri’s  _ Confused About Love _ ?” Chris’ voice is pitched weirdly, but Phichit answers him anyway.

 

“Evidently. I didn’t think he even used Tumblr anymore.” He can’t help the whine that creeps into his tone, he sounds like a petulant child but he’s just so mad at himself for not  _ realising _ .

 

“Yuuri’s  _ Confused About Love _ … I’ve never heard anything more apt.” Chris starts chuckling, “This is what you’ve been doing?”

 

“Well… Yeah I-”

 

“I thought you might have someone else. I had a hundred theories. But it was you giving out relationship advice?” Somewhere in the midst of his words his voice cracks into a squeak as he works his way up to a laugh thats bubbling from his lips. “Oh my God. What would my ask name be?”

 

“What?” Chris is still laughing, his eyes becoming watery.

 

“I couldn’t use the ass one, it would give me away too easily… Oh! Oh, what about Swiss and Salami? Too obvious?” 

 

“You’re not mad?”

 

“Why would I be mad? This is hilarious! You’ve been giving out relationship advice? Amazing!” Chris’ laughter spill out anew, he’s folding up in mirth with his head hitting the hand on Phichits knee, “Oh you have to show me Yuuri’s other asks. Has he been whining about Victor forever?”

 

“Uh… well yeah, he has. And he dm’d me some shit I’d like to scrub from my brain now that I know it was Victor saying it.” The atmosphere is light and bubbly, Chris still gripping his phone and shooting him a look that speaks volumes of fondness that has Phichit’s heart thumping all over again, this time for far nicer reasons.

 

“Oh shit! Tell me-” Chris begs, he levels a set of puppy dog eyes that Phichit can’t really refuse. He reaches for his phone, all of the asks are published after all. “Hold on, I’ll show you.”

 

Their dinner is left forgotten as they scroll through his blog, navigating to Yuuri’s asks and laughing at just how dumb the scenario  _ is _ . Chris practically squeals at the dm’s, choking back a laugh at the concept of their best friends being such a pair of idiots. After they’ve exhausted Yuuri’s asks, Chris sequesters his phone and scrolls through the anons with interest, reading his particular favorites out loud.

 

“You’re really good at it, your advice is well thought out and really helpful.” Chris grins, he’d pulled his chair around and dragged Phichit into a hug.

 

“Did you expect any less? I’m amazing at relationships- you should know that!”

 

“I do.” Chris agrees easily, he locks Phichit’s phone and hands it back. “That’s why I know you’ll be able to settle things with Yuuri easily. Just take your own advice and be honest.”

 

“Yeah… I’m going to be eating every word I’ve ever written aren’t I?” He huffs out a laugh at even the concept of telling Yuuri his deep dark secret. Once Yuuri calms down he’s going to be hurling bad puns at an alarming rate.

 

“Possibly, but your advice is right. Yuuri is your best best friend, or so he said in his ask. He loves you, just be gentle though.”

 

“I will.” Chris kisses him on the hairline gently and it warms Phichit through in seconds, “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just… a hobby just for me. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal until it  _ was _ .”

 

“I’ll forgive you if you’ll forgive my jealousy.” Chris says seriously.

 

“How could I not?” He asks, but the smile they share is forgiveness enough, really.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri is busying himself with making tea, practiced motions kicking in while Phichit hops onto the countertop and settle in for a good catch up, swinging his legs before he sing-songs. “Sooooooo… How was the daaaaaate~?”

 

If there were a physical embodiment of the Lenny face, Phichit would be it right now.

 

Yuuri considers his options, he can either be honest and tell Phichit the truth - that the date had started out a little wobbly, but by the time the second course had arrived they’d found their footing and talked and touched their way through the meal, leading to more touching in the taxi and thorough dishevelling in Yuuri’s bedroom once they’d returned home… or he can troll the everloving shit out of his best best friend.

 

“Date?”

  
  
“Your suuuuper hot date with the Russian.”

 

“The... Russian?”

 

“Yes, Yuuri. The Russian.” Phichit gives him a look so flat he can almost hear it, “Silver hair like smoke on the wind and an ass so fine you wanna dine on it for weeks or whatever poetic bullshit you’ve been thinking.”

 

_ Well. _

 

“Oh, you mean  _ Victor _ !” 

 

“Yes I mean Victor, how many Russians have you been pining over?”

 

“Well I did have a thing for-”

 

“ _ Yuuuuuuuri. _ ” Phichit looks like he's about to combust with not knowing, so Yuuri relents.

 

“It was… really great actually.” He smiles to himself, pouring the hot water into a pair of chipped mugs. “I mean we were both a bit nervous at first but we got over it and just had fun.”

 

“Fun? Sexy fun or just the regular type?” Phichit is waggling his eyebrows suggestively and Yuuri kinda wants to push him off the bench a little.

 

“I’m not telling you.”

 

“That means yes!”

 

“No, it means it’s none of your business and I’m never playing Super Smash Bros with you again if you keep it up.”

 

“Cruel, Yuuri. Too cruel.” Phichit sighs dramatically, one hand covering his heart and his face contorting into lines of misery.

 

Sometimes his best best friend is an actual idiot.

 

But yano, he’s fond of the actual idiot, so he’ll keep him.

 

Yuuri grabs his mug and cradles it, letting the warmth seep through the cheap ceramic into his fingers. “It was nice.”

 

“Oh shit.” Phichit stares at him, his own mug halted an inch from his lips. “Nice?”

 

Yuuri nods.

 

“Oh holy crap you’re a goner, aren’t you?”

 

Yuuri shrugs.

 

Phichit blinks three times in quick succession, then lowers his mug and hops down from the counter. He takes Yuuri’s own mug from him and places it carefully beside his own before he pulls Yuuri into a crushing hug and laughs into his ear.

 

“You okay there?”

 

“Yeah! Yes! I’m just really happy you both pulled your heads out of your asses!” He claps Yuuri on the back a few times for good measure before pulling away and reclaiming his tea. He frowns down at his tea for a second before shooting a worried look that Yuuri catches, but doesn’t understand. “There’s- Actually there’s something I need to talk to you about too…”

 

“Oh god you’re pregnant, aren’t you? I thought you and Chris were taking it  _ slow _ !” Yuuri is trying for a laugh, because Phichit looks uncharacteristically serious and Yuuri’s normally the serious one. “I can’t be an uncle this young, I just can’t!”

 

“Ha ha, Yuuri.” An eyeroll? That’s the best he’s gonna get? “No, actually. But there’s a thing.”

 

“A thing?”

 

“A dumb thing that might have incidentally happened and I feel like shit? But like…” Phichit is biting his lip, still not looking at Yuuri. “I’m uh. I might be an anonymous relationship blogger on tumblr… and you might have accidentally sent me an ask off anon? Aaaaaaaaand I might have back-traced your sign off to like a bunch of interactions… so, that. That’s the thing?”

 

“You’re… what?”

 

“I’m Uncle Art.” Phichit take a bracing breath, “And that makes you Confused About Love.”

 

OH.

 

OH SHIT!

 

“You’re Uncle Art.” He repeats, as though parroting the words back will make them real.

 

“Yes.” Phichit is solemn. Phichit is never fucking solemn.

 

“So the anonymous messages I’ve sent to an anonymous relationship blogger have been going to my best friend?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Wait- If you’re Uncle Art then I dm’d you and…” and told him things he would never, ever, ever, ever say out loud. He can feel the telltale heat creeping up his face and pricking at his ears.

 

“And  _ ‘You can’t unsuck your housemates cock’ _ yep. That was me. I, uh… I don’t even know if I should apologise because it’s not like I  _ knew _ \- but then I  _ did  _ know and I was like ‘Holy shit’.”

 

“Yeah, holy shit about covers it.” He laughs weakly, there might be an edge of hysteria to it that has Phichit’s eyes widening. 

 

Phichit knows everything, all of the petty stupidity and self-destructive bullshit, all of the stuff he’d intimated between the two of them. Phichit knows  _ everything _ and Yuuri winces at the thought that he’d been so childish, so insular. Phichit knows all of the worst parts of him, anonymously and freely given; and he’s stood in Yuuri’s kitchen looking for all the world like he’s the bad guy out of the two of them and Yuuri can’t stand the thought he’s put his best best friend in such a shitty position. Phichit is his best best friend in the whole world and he has helped him a hundred times knowingly and unknowingly, had given him support when he’s been too much of an asshole to ask.

 

“I didn’t know, I couldn’t have known-”

 

“No, I know but… holy shit!” He laughs again, and this time it sounds a little less terrible to his own ears. “You’re _ Uncle Art _ …”

 

“You… don’t sound mad.” Phichit is watching him carefully from his perch against the bench.

 

“I’m not. I’m…” He pauses for a second, information dumps and expositions aside he needs to think this over for a moment before he replies. He’s… He’s- “I- Can’t believe we’re such a pair of  _ idiots _ .” He snorts.

 

“Wait- Why am I an idiot? You’re the one messaging anonymous relationship bloggers instead of asking your best best friend!” Phichit’s indignant facade lasts all of a few seconds before he cracks up, laughing at the giggles Yuuri can’t stop from peeling out of his mouth.

 

“You’re- You- You’re an idiot because you named your relationship guru persona after your goddamn hamster you  _ idiot _ .”

 

“Hey- Arthur is the most empathetic of all the hamsters and you know it!”

 

“Oh- oh man you really  _ did _ .”

 

“Hey! How dare you impugn the honour of my hamsters you heathen!”

 

And suddenly they’re having a very adult slap fight in the middle of Yuuri’s kitchen, which devolves into a tickle fight, which only ends when they’re both breathless and flushed. They lean heavily into each other, still laughing.

 

“Nothing to forgive.” Yuuri nudges Phichit’s shoulder with his own.

 

“Okay.” Phichit smiles. “Okay.”

 

They’re okay. 

 

Of course they’re okay- they’re best best friends, after all.

 

* * *

 

Victor has always been fond of Winter, he likes the cold and the snow and the fact that he gets to design with heavy fabrics that drape and hold rather than the floaty tangling messes he has to deal with for spring collections. He likes it because there are so many chances in Winter, so many unexpected things- the chance to curl up on the couch with Makka and a good book, the unexpected snowfalls that remind him so much of his childhood in St. Petersburg.

 

But he finds himself becoming uncommonly attached to Spring- to  _ this _ Spring.

 

Yuuri shuffles around in t-shirts and sweats rather than bundled up in thirty layers against the Winter chill. Yuuri wants to do something with the tiny patch of scrub in front of the house so he starts planning and plotting a potting schedule, dragging Victor to find hardware stores and spending hours on the internet on horticultural sites; checking soil acidities and rhyming off all the things he plans to do when they’re eating breakfast, or at night when they’re settled on separate couches.

 

Not that they sit apart all the time, but Victor is bringing his work home more often than not now, rather than hauling himself through to Detroit city and into the tiny office he’d been working out of in his desperate attempt to do  _ something _ new. Now he just sits on  _ his _ sofa, surrounded by piles of fabric samples and sketchbooks, Yuuri on the opposite couch with his laptop and Makka by his side. He catches Yuuri watching him over the top of his screen sometimes, sending him small smiles and come-hither looks.

 

Victor always goes. 

 

Victor can’t resist the warmth of Yuuri’s arms as he drops his work and shuffles into his embrace.

 

Sometimes it’s Victor who’s sending smiles and looks. Sometimes Makka decides her human is working too hard and drags one or the other of them from their preoccupation. Sometimes they sit together, curled up and warm with crappy b-movies playing in the background. Sometimes there are days where they never make it to the living room at all- bypassing it and up the stairs to their bedroom, losing themselves in each other. 

 

Victor isn’t sure which of all these days he likes the most, and he’s not sure he should ever have to pick.

 

What Victor  _ does  _ know is that he can’t wait to see what Summer is going to bring for them.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that about does it I think? The end of an era!
> 
> Not gonna lie, I've loved this fic, it was awesome to write something completely self indulgent and cracky as hell just for the fun of it. I love writing ChrisChit and naturally helping our mothership to sail, and I've loved working with my Writing Wife on this trashfire we created together.
> 
> This fic started out life as a bad idea I had when scrolling through tumblr one day, grew under @skyarasnow's tutelage and blossomed with the care and love of our Beta @sophiedoodles. We wrote this for our lil fam, as something just for us, but everyone who's commented and kudosed has earned a speacial place in our nerdy hearts.
> 
> So this is my sign off for the time being. I'll be working on a few one-shots whilst negotiating my Big Bang fic, as will Sam. We can't wait to show everyone what we have up our sleeves next! (May or may not include side-stories for Uncle Art and his dashingly dashing and slightly vain live in lover, and those weirdos they're friends with)
> 
> It's been an epic y'all.
> 
> Dasvidadsa - Nikk

**Author's Note:**

> We'll be posting these weekly on Monday evenings.
> 
> We hope you enjoy our gigglefic, it gave us a many an hours long vc session giggling at eachother!
> 
> Drop us comments and Kudos if you like us enough, or you can find us on Tumblr as [@topcatnikki](https://topcatnikki.tumblr.com/) and [@rrsm](http://rrsm.tumblr.com/)


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